Severus Snape and the Last Year
by Carla Lute
Summary: The third and final layer of "Harry Potter and the Last Year". Severus is reunited with the girl he loved and lost when he was seventeen. Only trouble is she hasn't aged a day in twenty years.
1. Back From Siberia

**Severus Snape and the Last Year**

By Carla Lute

**Notes: **If you want to go with the zippered, semi-chronological reading that I've posted here, you would read Level 3.1 right after Level 2.3: The Slytherins (aka Chapter 5).

When I wrote Harry Potter and the Last Year and Draco Malfoy and the Last Year I had always intended to write a third level for Snape. But I knew Snape's would be more self-indulgent and less plot critical.

I had a strong feeling that canon Snape was doomed to die, and I wanted to write him a better ending. In studying Snape's character, I figured there had to be a girl involved to explain the intensity of the animosity between him and James. For canon, I figured this would be Lily, but by that point, I already wanted to play with the character concept I had for Persephone. (Snape is the only HP character I prefer with an OC.) So Persephone, James younger sister, took Lily's role in Snape's life. Instead of marriage and death, she's kidnapped and kept in an enchanted painting for 20 years, until Draco frees her.

While Harry's and Draco's layer have grand themes of fate and redemption, Severus's layer is a fairly straight up romance that dances through time. This is why I call this layer self-indulgent. It has no grand theme. It's a character study. Since it's Snape, expect obsessive love, moping, and dry humor, maybe a little acid wit.

That said, I certainly think there's entertainment value, particularly when read alongside the first two layers.

This story is canon through OotP. I have an alternative 6th year in the works, which bridges into this story. Unlike the other two layers, I have incorporated some elements and names introduced in HBP. Slughorn is Slughorn sans the Slug Club, but he does not return to Hogwarts in Harrry's time. Tobias Snape is similar in looks and character to his canon counterpart, but in this story, he's a wizard. Lucius is slightly younger than in canon, his age was a misprint in the Daily Prophet (he was not happy).

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on the Harry Potter novels written by J.K. Rowling. All characters created by J.K. Rowling are owned by J.K. Rowling. The few characters created by me (i.e. Persephone, Hotchet, Kagome…) belong to me, but are available for use in other fics as long as I get credited as their creator. None of us are making any money off this and no infringement is intended.

* * *

oOo

**Level 3.1: Back From Siberia**

He was late. Severus Snape had never been late returning from a holiday before. He wanted to kill Karkaroff, really kill him. The elaborate ruse they had concocted to fake his death had been the cause for this delay. If it had not been for the saving grace of Monday mornings being his planning period he would have seriously considered Apparating back to Siberia and finishing the job properly.

He tried to tell himself there had been no harm done. He had not missed any classes. His lessons plans had been set over a month ago. He would have felt a much greater relief returning to Hogwarts, if it had not been for the owl Dumbledore had sent him with its short and annoyingly vague message.

_Don't be surprised if you run into an old friend in the halls._

He was not sure what that meant, but it could not be anything good. All of his old friends were Death Eaters, and the thought of running into any of them in the hall hardly brightened his day.

Not that his day needed brightening. The sun was sufficiently over powering already. Despite rumors to the contrary, Severus did like fair weather, but direct sunlight was something he always shied from. He strode past the courtyard, trying to stay inside the meager shadow of the walkway.

He thought he heard his name called, "Severus!", but he knew the voice and knew it was only a memory. He refused to break stride even when he saw the apparition flying towards him, though his muscles became sluggish of their own accord. It had been a long time since he'd actually _seen_ her. He had beaten the memories down, so they were usually no more than an echo of faint laughter in the corridor. These days it took a few drinks and a deep melancholy before he would _see_ her, and he was angry at the moment, far from melancholy.

Before he could contemplate his damaged psyche further, the weight slammed into him, a real weight. Arms wrapped around his middle, squeezing. At least they felt like arms, solid, soft. It felt like a girl's body pressed against him, looked like a mass of silver hair, but it wasn't possible. Not possible it was her anyway. Maybe he was having some kind of attack. His mind had finally snapped past the point of repair. His arms were frozen above this solid apparition, afraid to touch it, lest it fade away or prove his madness.

The smell of her finally reached his nostrils, and he regained the ability to move, though this was not something of which he had any conscious awareness. His arms dropped and found solid shoulders. He pushed the apparition back to study it's face. He sometimes still saw her face on strangers, but the mirage was quick to fade with a second look. Not this time. _Her_ face beamed at him, unchanging, unchanged. And again he knew it was impossible. It had been twenty years. She would have changed. She could not have the same face from his memories.

"_You're_ Professor Snape! Oh, I could _kill_ Draco! He should have told me! Severus! I'm back! I'm really back!" It was her voice. _Her_ odd accent created by too many years futilely attempting to adopt a French one. Her effervescent smile. Her not quite graceful body language. The same uniform. He had pushed her back. Why? He put his hand on her shoulder again, reassuring himself that she was indeed solid. He wasn't letting her go again, never again. If this was insanity, he was determined to let it swallow him.

If it was real...his mind was not ready to accept that possibility.

Suddenly he was afraid. She seemed to have poured out of the sunlight, and he was afraid the sun would take her back again. His arm stretched protectively around her shoulders. He swept her inside, away from the sun. Safe. Somewhere safe, inside the castle walls. She came with him willingly, matching his pace without question, though he could feel the uncertainty in her shoulders.

"Severus, are you all right?" _Her _voice. It was her voice.

He stopped his flight, turned to face her again. His hand refused to leave her, but it traveled to hold her face. It had been a sunny day when she had vanished. He had not searched the sun. The other hand joined it, gently testing the shape of the face to see if his fingers could confirm what his eyes were telling him. "Persephone?"

Her cherub face beamed at him. Silver eyes shining. "Yes! S'me." Her hands covered his, small soft fingers on his long knobby ones. His hand tested her springy, silver hair, her smooth, cream neck, the Slytherin crest on her robes. She had vanished somewhere between the common room and the lake, on a Saturday in May, sometime between three and four in the afternoon. He had stayed in the common room waiting for her to return. She had said she would be back soon, and he had said he would wait.

His voice caught, his throat tight and raw. She laughed, her warm, silver laugh. "How?" His hands were trembling. His fingers had tangled themselves deep in her purl hair. He tried to extricate them without pulling, but he could not bear to release her.

"Draco found me." She took his hands in hers and spread his arms to look at him. Severus didn't understand how he could feel so warm and cold at the same time. _Draco?_

This was cruel. This was cruel beyond measure.

"You have to tell me all about yourself," her voice wrapped around his heart like a vice. "Severus, I want to hear everything."

He was aware now that they were in a hallway, exposed to anyone who might pass down this corridor. "My office," he suggested, feeling the threat of tears for the first time in well over a decade. But Severus Snape did not cry.

He wanted her to be real, but how could she be? Persephone had been missing for twenty-one years. If by some miracle she was still alive, she would have shown some signs of age, some sign of long captivity. Perhaps one of Voldemort's agents had found an old hair and used polyjuice to...but polyjuice didn't work that way. Could they have modified the formula? Or an elaborate set of transfigurations spells, but why make her look so young? It seemed sloppy. Perhaps more psychologically disconcerting...did they hope to confuse him enough to gain some information they thought he possessed? But even that seemed sloppy. The only person he knew that sloppy, cruel, and clever was Bella...and Bellatrix Lestrange was dead. Besides, there was Dumbledore's message...his head hurt with possibilities and problems.

"Severus?" the girl asked as they stopped before his office door. He had no memory of the walk there, but he opened the door and gestured her inside. Whatever this was, it was better if the students did not witness. "Aren't you going to ask me why I haven't aged?"

The door closed behind them, and he rested his arm against it to keep himself upright. Trim silver eyebrows raised. The excitement in her voice had mellowed with his mood. She had always been able to catch his moods. "Why?" he croaked.

She laughed and grabbed his hand again. "Come sit down before you fall over!" She pulled him to the small wrought iron backed bench against the wall, and he let himself be lead. "Oh, poor Severus, I've given you a shock. I didn't think anything could shock you." Her small, soft hand stroked his cheek. "My poor Severus."

He captured her hands with his own and moved his head slightly. She understood and sat down on the bench beside him. He stared down at those small, delicate hands. His own looked so old and overgrown beside them. The creases of his knuckles had grown deep. They did not belong together, but he could not let her go. If she started stroking his face again, he was going to crumble.

Her hands shifted to rest gently on his lower one, but she made no effort to remove them. She gave him the silence he needed to regain some composure. He realized his fingers were resting on her lap, but there were few other options. As it was he could only feel the fabric of her robe with the back of his fingers; the warmth of her hand on his palm was far more distracting. At least she had done him the courtesy of shifting her hips away. This brought her knees closer, but they were lost in the fabric of her school robes.

Her bright smile had faded. Her expression was quieter. That was like before too. She never smiled as much with him as she did other people. He had asked her about it once, afraid his presence depressed her somehow. _Oh, no. I just feel like I can be quiet with you. It's nice, peaceful_.

Lucius had left school by then. It had been the first time he had seriously thought about asking her...first time he thought she might.

His thumb stroked the back of hers, and he caught her smile softly. No one could copy all this could they? No one could duplicate her so perfectly. Maybe it was possible, but..."How?"

"I was enchanted into a painting," she said. The giddiness had gone from her voice. She spoke calmly now, and it made her sound older, like a woman rather than a girl. It always had. "I don't think it was intended for keeping wizards, just preserve objects from the ravages of time, but it was an effective prison. They kept the painting in an attic. Maybe they had planned to let me out at some point, but I think they forgot about me."

"I didn't forget."

The soft smile stole back over her face, and she looked at him curiously. "Did you look for me?"

"Did I-?" he spoke indignantly, before he remembered she had no way to know. "Of course, I looked for you. I kept looking when everyone else-" He swallowed down the surge of emotion. "They tried to tell me you were dead. You would have to be dead by now, but I-I couldn't accept that."

Her smile grew broader. _Her_ smile, as sweet as the first time he had seen it. He risked raising his hand to stroke her cheek. She continued to smile. Her hands waited patiently for his to return.

"Who was it?"

She looked down, her smile gone as suddenly as it had come. "I can't tell you that."

He tried to speak gently, but there was a harsh edge of fear in his voice. "Persephone, please, they can't hurt you anymore."

"No, they can't," she agreed sadly and tried fixing on a false smile. "So you see it doesn't really matter."

"DOESN'T MATTER!" He hadn't meant to roar so loudly, but it had growled out from the depths of his gut. Her hands flinched inside his, trying to pull away for the first time.

Her voice took on a pleading tone. "Severus, please! What would you do to them if I told you?"

He did not need to answer her with words. He knew his eyes spoke of the death and pain he would like to inflict on the perpetrator. She knew the sort of dark magic he had studied and the depths of his creativity.

She tried to set her jaw firmly but her lip trembled. "Draco said I probably would have been killed if-if I hadn't...if I wasn't in that painting. He told me—"

Snape closed his eyes. _Draco_ again. Lucius had told him his son would be offered the mark soon. He did not need to hear what the boy had to tell her. Shame was already creeping over him. He had dreaded being the one to impart the news of her family's death, but it seemed that grim task had fallen to the young Malfoy.

He spoke more calmly now, despite the rising dread. "I am sorry, Persephone. Deeply sorry about your family. But their tragedy doesn't make your kidnapper a hero. Justice-"

"Justice...is a fancy word for revenge."

Lucius had said that, long ago. She was quoting him. She was protecting her kidnapper, and Severus could not understand why unless...He searched her face hoping for some clue. Draco was too young to be a suspect, but his involvement indicated a Death Eater, one more than others. How many Death Eaters would have risked the Dark Lord's ire by sheltering a Potter?

"Did Lucius-?"

"Please don't ask me. Please, Severus, I gave my word."

The pain that shot through his chest was physical. Lucius had commiserated with him over the loss of Persephone. He had been the only one who understood, who had not told him to give up on the search. Lucius had even offered him leads, and when those had run dry... The pain in his chest tightened over the depth of the betrayal, how deeply the lies must have run, but Severus refused to cry out. He bit his tongue instead. He tried to cling to some hope that he was misreading the evidence. He knew how tightly Persephone held onto a promise. Maybe she would deny any name he offered.

"Bellatrix?"

Persephone's concerned look gave way to annoyance. "That's not fair. You can't just rattle off names to get to it by elimination. You have to let it go. I promised."

His chest eased a bit. "Who did you promise?" She only glared at him in response, and the expression was so out of place on her features, he almost laughed. Almost.

He squeezed her hand gently, trying to reassure her that he was letting the matter drop. "How did Draco find you?"

"He found the painting in an attic," she told him, apparently deciding this question was safe enough to answer. "They'd put a silencing spell on me years ago, but I think it must have faded off at some point. There was just no one to talk to."

As far as Severus knew, Draco had not left the Malfoy Manor all summer, which indicated that particular attic, but he could be wrong. Draco knew how to use floo powder as well as anyone. Severus had been told to stay clear of the manor and only guessed at its connection to the caverns he had entered through a cave deep in the forest. He had also been in Russia for the past two weeks, sorting out that mess with Karkaroff. Yes, there were any number of places Draco could have found her, but the possibility...the probability...

"He said you'd never married...?" Persephone's eyebrows asked the question.

"No, I didn't," Severus answered, distracted by this new thread of conversation. He knew she was asking to distract him, but he suddenly wanted to be married. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to take her back to his room, his bed, and kiss every inch of her. His throat was dry but for different reasons now. "There was no one."

Her lip twitched as though to smile, but she quickly swallowed it down. "You were focused on your career?"

"Yes." He held himself stiffly, clung to her hands a little more tightly, but refused to move in any other way. She might not want what he wanted after all. He certainly was not going to chase her off by forcing himself on her, not in any capacity. "There are allowances for married faculty, but it's discouraged."

"Oh," she said. Was that disappointment in her eyes? Was he imagining it? "Why?"

"The job requires occupation of the apartments in the Hogwarts castle, to provide supervision at all times, to limit the number of times the gates must be opened. It's awkward for the students, not to mention the spouse, and concerning to the parents to have an adult in residence who does not have an established position at the school."

"Oh...what would you do if you wanted to marry someone?"

"Retire, if Dumbledore would let me."

"Why would he stop you?"

"It's complicated." Severus glanced down at his own arm, at the Dark Mark concealed by his sleeve, at his hands and their deep creases. They did not belong with her delicate, smooth ones. He must look so old to her now. She would hate the tattoo. She would hate the Death Eaters. "Did Draco bring you to Dumbledore?"

"Yes," Persephone answered. "He tried to take me to Harry first, but we missed him. So he brought me here instead. Dumbledore said I could go back to school again. I might as well." She looked up at him with sudden delight. Her mouth fell open and words tumbled out as if she had discovered the greatest joke in history. "Severus! You're going to be my teacher! Isn't that hysterical? What do you teach?"

"Potions," he murmured, trying to recover from the gut punch some invisible hand had delivered. Her teacher? That was a joke. Albus Dumbledore was an absolute bastard at times. Severus loved the man, but he was an absolute bastard.

Persephone had stood in her excitement at the concept and seemed to almost be dancing on her toes. "Of course, you were always brilliant at Potions! I bet you're an excellent teacher! Twenty times better than Slughorn! Oh, if he's gone, who's the head of Slytherin House now?"

"I am," he said with a sardonic smile.

"Oh, you really _have_ been focusing on your career. Severus, that's amazing." She was laughing with every word. "This is fantastic! I'll get to see you all the time! I thought I was going to be all alone, but..." She bit her lip and stopped bouncing. She was still holding his hands, one in each now, and swung them in a playful way. "You have no idea how happy I am you're here."

Wonderful man, Dumbledore, brilliant really, when things were put that way. Severus found her smile infectious. What had made him so impatient? He had waited over twenty years with no sign of hope. What was two more with her under his protection? Two years of seeing her everyday. Even if she didn't want to marry him, he had two years with her. He had her back.

He did kiss her hand then, though he kept it brief and gentlemanly. She smiled softly and made no indication it was inappropriate. "You'll have to call me, Professor Snape."

She snickered. "All right, Professor." He had never enjoyed the title more. "Professor Snape. Can I come to your office anytime?"

"Of course."

"Are you going to take care of me?"

"As your head of house."

"So I can come to you with any problem?"

"Any problem."

"And if I'm naughty...?"

"You're never naughty," he said, and despite her attempt at a mischievous expression, they both knew that was true. She had never been a rule breaker. He had been fairly by the book as well except when it came to her brother, which unfortunately it had and often. "Though oddly you seemed to get me in trouble a lot."

"James did that. You can't blame me for it."

"As you wish."

"I wanted to go the dance with you, Severus. I really did." Her apology sounded so genuine, as if she really felt it was her fault for breaking their engagement.

"It's all right," he said. It was not the right time to make a profession of adoration. "How long have you been out of that painting?"

"About a week, I think. Maybe less."

He gave her hands another gentle squeeze. It was not the right time, but he had two years.

oOo

* * *

oOo

"Don't be surprised if you run into an old friend in the halls?"

Dumbledore had the good grace to look sheepish behind his half-moon spectacles. "I'm sorry, Severus. I couldn't risk sending anything more specific in an owl. Too easily intercepted. I had hoped you would stop by my office first on your return. Besides, it must not have been a bad sort of surprise, you're smiling."

Severus Snape was smiling, and he was hungry. They had skipped lunch. Persephone had not left his office until he realized his second years would soon be arriving. She had run off to Charms class. He had managed to make it through his second years and a double helping of fifth years, though he had not been nearly as intimidating as he liked. She had returned to his office to squeeze in a quick hug and two more hours of exclamations and left again for dinner. He had spent ten minutes sitting behind his desk, trying to beat the smile down, but it wouldn't go away. At length, he gave up and went to dinner anyway. "Of course, I'm smiling. She's alive."

Dumbledore smiled as well. The whole of his long white beard twitched with it. "I thought you might be a little disappointed she hadn't aged, but maybe it's better this way. Twenty years is a lot to..."

That helped dim Severus's smile a bit. "She's alive," he repeated. "I'm not going to be picky about it." He attacked his glazed pork chop with a knife.

"Wise man," Dumbledore said, with a sigh of relief.

Snape looked down from the high table to find Persephone. She was surrounded by such a crowd that it was difficult to make her out. "You won't keep her a secret very long."

The Headmaster made a non-committal noise. "I'm sure the students will write home and some of their parents will remember her. But they don't have all the clues we do. I've gotten some of the Order members to spread the rumor that our current Persephone is the name sake of the last one. Her parents deliberately copied the Silver Child charm and were so delighted by their success that they named her after the missing Potter girl...who would of course be in her late thirties now."

"Clever," Severus admitted. It might not convince everyone, but it was a more plausible explanation than the painting. "She told me she had told Ms. Parkinson that she was from Canada."

Dumbledore winced. "I should have worked with her more deliberately on a plausible back story, but that will have to do. Perhaps we can find some other way to support the illusion. Too much to do, too quickly. Do you know I've had to take up teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts myself this year? It's become that difficult to find a teacher."

"I would have done it," Severus said quietly, trying not to betray his annoyance.

"You think it would be that much easier for me to find a decent Potions Master?"

"You could have pulled Slughorn out of retirement."

Dumbledore grimaced. "I tried that last year and see what it got us?"

"If you'd let me try..."

"Severus, no." Dumbledore took a bite of his dinner, and they were silent while he chewed. He spoke again in an even lower voice. "I know you think you can break the curse, but that's not my only concern." He left his other concern unvoiced, though he had said it before over the years. He viewed Severus's fascination with the Dark Arts as an addiction, and he would no sooner pass a cocktail to a recovering alcoholic. They had had a row over it, when Severus covered for Lupin. _It was only one day! Do you think me so sapheaded I'd fall back on old habits over a third year lesson?_

_Severus, you assigned them an essay on werewolves. I think that rather unkind given the circumstances._

_Someone had to give them a warning._

"I'm not some desperate, weak-willed teenager anymore," he snapped.

"No," Dumbledore agreed. "You're not. Remember that."

Snape shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He hated that he understood the rebuke, a double rebuke. His eyes found Persephone again. She smiled up at him, before another student distracted her. There was another group of students crowded around Draco Malfoy, though he did not seem to be enjoying the attention as much. Severus remembered the first time he had seen Draco, too, a tiny pale infant in Narcissa's arms. It had not been an easy birth for her. Lucius had lifted the child for his inspection, smirking with pride and relief. Severus had been afraid to hold him, but he had let the tiny hand curl around his finger.

"Did Draco take the mark?"

"I don't know," Dumbledore admitted.

"You didn't check?"

"I thought the boy had had enough for one day," Dumbledore replied, his voice low. "Besides I know the mark does not necessarily mean devotion to Lord Voldemort. You taught me that." Severus scowled, and Dumbledore continued. "You should have seen them when they arrived, dressed as Muggles, nervous as mokes, and looking rather worse for the wear."

"Muggles?"

"Young Malfoy in blue jeans and a t-shirt if you'd believe it. His face was scratched rather badly, and Poppy said her legs were just as scraped. They flew into the school yard on a broom. I had received letters from the Ministry, apparently the trace on Persephone is still active. Which means as far as the magic measures are concerned, she's still sixteen. I also received a letter from Narcissa Malfoy looking for her son. They arrived so closely, I found it unlikely they were unrelated. I thought it improbable but not impossible they would return to Hogwarts. Minerva and I were keeping watch for them, and I dropped the wards long enough for the broom to pass."

"Surely Poppy could have-"

"Perhaps, but it seemed unwise to make him feel cornered. And I'd rather Poppy not be the one to make such a discovery. Besides I had her busy confirming the identity of Miss P."

"You should have given her a false name."

Dumbledore waved aside this objection and picked up his goblet. "Persephone is a terrible actor, and it would be too easy for the teachers to make a slip. Also I'm curious to see if rumors of her appearance will draw a reaction from certain parties."

Severus's scowl deepened. He did not like her being used that way, but again he understood and hated it. If she would not tell them the name of her kidnapper, Dumbledore did need some way to investigate.

"How did Potter react?"

"That remains to be seen."

"You didn't tell him?"

"Persephone asked for a chance to speak to him alone. I think it's important she tell him but hardly urgent."

"It might be better if she didn't." His mind had prepared tactical reasons for this, but Severus knew it was selfish. He wanted to keep her to himself.

"I think Harry would like to know. Besides, she and Harry will need to work out the issues about the Potters' inheritance."

"How so?"

"Well...after thirteen years, she was declared legally dead, which means everything went to Harry. We got some extra socks for her, but I'm sure there'll be other expenses. Books..."

"I'll get them," Severus said quickly. Albus gave him a sideways glance, and Severus continued in a more measured tone. "I think it's a bit much to expect Mr. Potter to start providing for family members he never knew he had, particularly given all the other pressures on him at present. We should give them a little time to get acquainted without added complications."

"Very thoughtful of you, Severus," the headmaster said dryly.

Severus shrugged. He had twenty years of missed birthdays and Christmases to make up.

"As you like," said Dumbledore. "I'm sure you're only thinking of Harry."

Severus resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. He glanced briefly at Potter who was nestled obliviously between Weasley and Granger. Draco's crowd was dispersing which seemed to grow Persephone's cloud of admirers. Despite the crowd, she caught his eye again and threw him a smile.

oOo

* * *

oOo

He dreamed that night about the first time he had seen her, in the library, through the book stacks. The butterflies flew off the book page, grew, and multiplied. They filled the halls, spilled into his office, and circled him. The whirlwind of wings kissed his robes and tugged at his hair. Blue light spilled over him and the creases in his hands smoothed.

oOo

* * *

oOo

He awoke to his dark bed sheets and deep creases in his fingers. Severus sighed, dressed, and headed up to the Great Hall. He found Persephone having breakfast with the ghosts and found he preferred this crowd to the one from the previous evening. She at least was not a dream. He managed to send off an owl order for her school books and two sets of black robes.

He was too distracted to muster up the normal dramatics he liked giving first years on their first day, and instead set in straight to the lesson. It was a solid day of classes. He caught a glimpse of Persephone at lunch, but he had to wait until the fifth years had cleared out of the potions lab before he could retreat to his office. She was waiting for him beside the door. He checked the hall to make sure it was clear before beckoning her in.

"How are your classes?" he asked as he closed the door.

"I only had Transfiguration today," Persephone said as she took her seat from yesterday on the bench. "So I did a little homework and took a walk. I've decided I'm going to learn everyone's name this year. I'm trying to figure out how many parents I know." She chuckled. He had remained standing, hands formally clasped behind his back, so she patted the bench beside her. "It's so weird. Everything's the same, but everyone's different. Professor McGonagall looks so much older, and Flitwick's gone from grey to white..."

Severus paused in his slow walk towards the bench. "I'm surprised you recognized me," he said trying to make light of his own aging.

"You're not that different," Persephone said and patted the bench again. "Besides I spent a lot of time trying to imagine you." He sat down beside her, and her left hand quickly found his right. The smile was creeping back already. "You kept me sane, you know. Imagining you...how we would be."

"Hope reality isn't too disappointing," he said dryly, as he laid his left hand over their intertwined fingers.

"I was hoping to be rescued in time for the dance," she admitted. His fingers tensed with guilt, but her delicate hand came to stroke reassurance. "It's not your fault. At least, I'm alive. Did you go to the dance? Could you tell me about it?"

Severus shook his head. "There was no point."

"You could have asked someone else," she suggested.

"It took me two years to work up the courage to ask you. I didn't have the luxury of that much time."

"Two years?" she repeated, and he realized he had said too much.

There was no help for it now. "I lacked a degree of social grace," he said, hoping she would let that non-answer pass.

A wane smile tugged at her lips. "Sometimes I imagined what our kids would look like," she said. "I would have these long elaborate fantasies about all the things that could have happened. Going to the dance, leaving school, getting a house...getting married. I had these little dream babies, and I guess I could have really been lost in my head for years, but then...I'd sort of wake up and realize they weren't real. My babies were gone."

His elation at getting some confirmation of mutual attraction was buried under this revelation of her sadness. He had wondered what her captivity had been like but was unsure how to approach the subject. He took his turn to comfort her hand. "This is real."

She smiled sad gratitude. The shimmer of unshed tears collected, but she blinked them away. "I'm afraid I'm going to wake up again."

He held her hands more firmly. "You're not allowed. I've woken up too many mornings after a dream where I found you. I doubt my daydreams were as elaborate, but I did think about how things would be if you had never been taken. It was never easy coming out of them."

Her sad smile stretched tight. "What if we're both mad?"

He had missed this most. These moments of perfect, quiet empathy between them that no one else seemed capable of comprehending. She had been his friend first. His best friend, long before she had been his fantasy. "You could argue the entirety of life is an exercise in madness."

She laughed at that, an easy laugh. "Just don't go anywhere, ok?"

oOo

* * *

oOo

On Wednesday morning Professors Sinistra and Trelawny were giggling over a magazine when Severus arrived at breakfast. Persephone was standing at the Gryffindor table, presumably telling Harry that she needed to have a more private chat. Minerva waved him over to sit beside her. Something about the woman still reduced him to student, even though they had been colleagues for longer. He did his best not to let her see that but suspected some part of her still saw him as a student as well.

This morning she was smiling at him with the similar sort of repressed joy he himself had been feeling. Her students were her children. To get one of them back from the dead was a victory for her too. She gave his arm a quick pat as he took the chair beside hers. He had thought at first she wanted to speak to him, but she merely flicked her eyes to Persephone who was walking back to the Slytherin table and gave him a sly smile. He returned her smile with a smug one of his own. There was no need for words between them. They had their girl back.

Severus did his best not to watch her. He knew how quickly that would be misinterpreted. Hogwarts was legendary for its gossip.

He could risk the occasional glance at the Slytherin table. Persephone was seated with the seventh years now, three Death Eater children. He was not thrilled by that. Minerva finished her breakfast and slipped out. He attacked his eggs, trying to assure himself that Gregory and Vincent were not clever enough to be a real danger and Pansy Parkinson far too vapid. Clever but vapid.

He heard the sound of breaking glass, but a quick glance told him it had not occurred at the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy soon took the seat across from Persephone, and he found this more concerning. He was fond of Draco, but the boy looked too much like Lucius. Malfoy passed his silver girl a letter that Severus could see caused her some concern. Snape realized he was staring and forced himself to look away until the mail came. He had received the books and robes he ordered yesterday and attached a note before sending them along with a school owl this morning.

He was rewarded with a bright smile and a laugh as Persephone opened his gifts, though he noticed that Malfoy had taken his note. It annoyed him, but at least he had been wise enough to use their old school habit of signing initials. Pansy and Daphne had the note now. Severus watched to see if the Slytherin girls made the connection, but no one looked his way. Persephone took her prizes away. The two seventh year girls followed her, and Severus hoped she would rub off on them.

The morning passed easily enough. He took tea in his office instead of going to lunch. He needed a clear head to face his seventh year class.

He watched them shuffle in after the bell. Part of him always dreaded this set of students. They drudged up too many potent memories. But the memories seemed more pleasant today. These ghosts from his past had dissolved into teenagers, full of potential rather than condemnation.

He had too much energy to sit still, so he paced, knowing it would help draw the students' attention. "Let's see if you're taking your lessons seriously this year."

"Mr. Longbottom?" he had never been close to Alice, but he had respected her. She had been an extremely competent woman, and only recently had her son shown any glimmer of her potential. "What do you get when you add dragons blood to a mixture of powdered Graphorn horn and amber gris?"

He had been not unpleasantly shocked when the boy pulled an 'O' on his O.W.L, but this seemed to have been a freak incident, which unfortunately left him to wonder if cheating had been involved. Though successfully cheating on an O.W.L. potions exam required a level of cleverness that should secure someone a spot in his Advanced class. "I don't know, sir."

Severus bit back a sigh. "How unsurprising. Potter, same question."

"A _Patafacere Potion_. It's used to detect several otherwise untraceable poisons."

Severus stopped pacing and turned his black eyes on Harry. It had unsettled him the first time he had seen Harry in his classroom, such a perfect copy of James with Lily's eyes, and that Granger girl right beside him, bushy hair, round cheeks and so eager. He did not know now why she had reminded him so strongly of Persephone. The physical resemblance had been faint at best. Perhaps it had been the presence of young Malfoy eyeing her with a curious smirk, so much like Lucius.

He had snapped at her more than was fair. He was aware of that, but he had needed to distance himself from the temptation. He had been alone too long and knew it would be bad for both of them to form any attachment to this clever, brilliantly clever, and eager to please girl-child. Thankfully her face had thinned and the resemblance had faded with maturity. Her bossiness had begun to genuinely annoy him, but even that seemed unfair of him now.

His treatment of Harry had been unfair too. There had been moments when he had realized it, but Potter had the bad habit of finding some new way to torment him just as he was willing to make amends. Still looking at the boy's face now, he saw the faint resemblance to Persephone. She would not like how he treated her nephew. And if he had his way, his nephew too. That was a strange thought. All things considered, it was best to extend an olive branch, and Harry had given him an opportunity. "It seems Mr. Potter has actually read his text this year. Five points for Gryffindor."

The clear surprise on Harry's face was amusing to see. "Is there a problem, Mr. Potter?"

"No, sir," Harry stammered. It was clear to Severus that Persephone had not yet revealed her secret to him, and he took a perverse pleasure in being the only one to know.

Well, not quite the only one. Draco Malfoy was studying him intently. If Persephone's return had been an attempt to unhinge him, Draco would need to report back. Severus had hoped Draco would stay after class to clear up the matter, but the boy slipped away with the other students. Severus let him.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Dumbledore was wrong about the nature of his addiction. The Dark Arts had always fascinated him, but he could live without them, suffered no withdrawal from their absence. No, his addiction was waiting for him outside his office, with a coy smile on her pink lips. Like an addict, he made another guilty check of the hall before hiding his addiction inside the privacy of his office.

She threw her arms around him again, another chaste hug, this time in gratitude for her new books and robes. It was like taking a hit of some exotic potion. He only showed his euphoria with a smile, but the smile seemed to extend through the core of his being.

"You're the best best-friend ever," she chirped and lead him to their bench. He had used it in the past for the rare overflow when he had to discipline multiple students at once, but now it was a shrine, the most sacred place in the world.

Her fingers wove with his, and she beamed almost literally. Her perfect skin glowed.

She was not beautiful in the traditional sense. He knew that and was glad of it. Pleasant, sweet, charming were the labels most often applied. He had heard a few boys call her cute, but never with the sort of lust or longing girls like Narcissa had inspired. He felt her beauty was a secret only he had discovered, hidden behind her unusual coloring and square features. Lucius had loved her too, but he had never wanted her, not the way Severus had. The way he did.

"I'm already behind on my reading, but I can catch up now," she continued, oblivious to his longing. "It was really sweet of you. I'll pay you back somehow."

"This is payment enough," he said, lifting their intertwined fingers a few inches before letting them drop again. "I just want to see you happy."

A pretty pink graced her cheeks, while her eyes examined his office. It was lined with books as well. Her smile was slipping already, but he knew this was a sign of peace rather than unhappiness. Her smiles were like sunshine; her more somber expressions allowed him to approach.

"I looked for you." He had told her this already, but he wanted her to know how much he had looked for her. "When they couldn't find you, I didn't go home that summer. I stayed in Hogsmeade. I interviewed everyone. When I came up dry, I tried Knockturn Alley. You weren't the only one who disappeared. There were whispers, and I followed every one. But I...I couldn't find you. Lucius insisted I go back for my last year at Hogwarts. Said he'd send word if anything..."

Persephone placed her freehand over his, again bringing her knees in so they touched his. Silver irises watched him with rapt attention.

"There was no one left. I threw myself into my studies and kept an eye on the news. After seventh year ended, I searched the forest."

"Severus-"

"I didn't know where else to look. Best I could work out, you had been on the grounds when you went missing. They searched the forest first, but no one searched it like I did. Hagrid rescued me, pulled me out at one point, but I went back. I had to see—" The tremble in his voice betrayed him.

"Severus." She lifted a hand to touch his cheek in a silent thank you.

The confession spilled from him, unbidden, but he did nothing to stop it. He wanted to tell her, even though he dreaded her reaction. "Persephone, I did things I'm not proud of. I joined people. I joined a group. I didn't know where else to look, and Lucius—" his voice caught.

She waited. Her thumb lightly caressed his cheekbone. He wanted to savor the touch, but he needed to get this over with.

"He brought me to Lord Voldemort. He assured me that they hadn't taken you, that the Death Eaters could help me look. I believed him—I wanted to believe him. I was desperate. I took the mark. I took his mark. I just wanted to find you. I just—I forgot about Harry. I forgot you told me—"

"Shh, Severus, it's all right," she said. Her hand traveled up to stroke his hair. She had been the only person to ever say she liked his hair. "I know you did it for me. It's okay. I understand."

Persephone's hands dropped away from his face and slid down his left arm. "I want to see it," she said staring down at his forearm.

Severus swallowed. He did not want to show her that. He did not like to show anyone. It was the ugliest part of him, and he preferred to keep it hidden. But he could not refuse her. She had the right to see, to know everything that he had become. Grim faced, he presented his forearm, pulled back the sleeve of his robe, and unfastened the buttons at his wrist. Persephone took his hand in hers and together they pulled back his shirt sleeve. She held his fingers with hers, so he could not pull away. With the other hand, her face also grim, her fingers traced the mark.

Severus closed his eyes, forcing himself to endure and not pull away. It was torture. The most delicious, fantastic torture. Her touch choked out all thought, but the feelings and memories attached to her and the mark threatened to overwhelm him. She ended by wrapping her fingers around his wrist. "It's my fault."

He pulled his sleeve back into place. "It's not your fault." The sadness in her eyes was heavy, and he hated the fact he had put it there.

She hugged his forearm, resting her cheek on his hand as though that part of him needed extra consolation.

They were quiet for a long time afterwards.


	2. The Spring

**Severus Snape and the Last Year**

By Carla Lute

**Notes: **If you want to go with the zippered, semi-chronological reading, you would read Level 3.2 right after Level 2.5: The Snack Box (aka Chapter 8).

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on the Harry Potter novels written by J.K. Rowling. All characters created by J.K. Rowling are owned by J.K. Rowling. The few characters created by me (i.e. Persephone, Hotchet, Kagome…) belong to me, but are available for use in other fics as long as I get credited as their creator. None of us are making any money off this and no infringement is intended.

* * *

oOo

**Level 3.2: The Spring**

When he was eight, Severus Snape had wanted to be an Auror. His father was a curse breaker, so he thought it would be a good idea to start by studying curses. He had begun with his father's books, slipping them off the shelf after he had gone to work, replacing them carefully before he came home. He had learned a lot that way, far more than an eight-year-old should know.

Severus stopped his wayward prefect in the Great Hall before dinner. "Mr. Malfoy, I need you to escort the first years to their Astronomy lesson this evening."

Draco nodded. He looked paler than usual, evidently had not gotten much summer sun, though it struck Severus that the boy was now slightly taller than him. That was annoying. The nervous, assessing expression Draco wore was beginning to get annoying too, but the Great Hall was hardly the place for a confrontation. He allowed Draco to slither away again. He noticed that Persephone touched the boy's elbow with a brief reassuring gesture as he once again sat down beside her. Severus ignored the twinge of jealousy he felt as made his own way to the high table. He wished he could sit beside her at meals too, but also he knew it was not an option.

Minerva waved him over to sit by her again, but this time she did have something to say. "You may need to do some damage control," she said, sliding an open copy of the Quibbler to him. It was obvious which article she was referencing.

**Heartache of a Death Eater's Son:**

**Malfoy-Muggle Scandal in the Making?**

Severus grimaced. This would explain the boy's drawn appearance. Lucius was no doubt in a fervor. He read the article and quickly translated the truth between the lies. Someone had spotted Draco and Persephone at a hotel during their flight and mistaken her for a Muggle.

"Do you know he injured Ms. Granger's hand this morning?" Minerva continued. Severus raised a startled eyebrow at this information. He had seen the bandage in class, but had also heard her telling her friend Potter she was fine. Minor injuries being rather common at Hogwarts, he had not considered it worth further investigation. "She said it was an accident. He was upset by the article and exploded a goblet, but accidental magic at his age?" Minerva sniffed.

Severus felt a cold pit in his stomach. That confirmed a measure of truth to the account. Malfoy had very strong feelings over whatever had occurred in that hotel. Severus found them with his eyes, sitting so closely, too comfortably for a week's acquaintance. Draco's hand grazed Persephone's back to get her attention, and he got it for a moment before they skittishly looked away as though they might betray some secret. The rage that welled up inside him might have shattered a few goblets if it had not been checked by an equally intense despair.

"I'll deal with," he told Minerva, his voice a perfect mask of calm.

The Malfoy boy looked his way. Draco Malfoy with his perfectly sculpted face, perfect hair, perfect teeth, perfect posture, athletic build, not as commanding as his father but moving with his mother's grace, far more approachable. This golden haired prince had rescued his silver girl and taken her to a hotel.

oOo

* * *

oOo

By morning, the despair had won out. Persephone was beside Draco again at breakfast. Severus watched her play with the potions kit he had bought her, watched Malfoy take the note he had written before Persephone even had a chance to look at it. Draco looked his way briefly, when Malfoy turned back to Persephone she gave him a secretive smile. The note was making it's way around the Slytherin girls, and Severus felt like they were laughing at him.

He had clearly misinterpreted Tuesday's conversation. When she spoke of our children, she must have meant his and hers, not theirs. He had heard what he had wanted to hear. He did not doubt his friendship was dear to her, but he had been a fool to think she wanted more.

He had thought her too innocent, too pure to be seduced, but he knew she had always found Lucius attractive. After twenty years without being touched, how could he blame her for falling for her rescuer? Draco had no Narcissa. Pansy Parkinson was a poor substitute. Severus cursed her vapidity, and his own reflection in the lavatory mirror.

Large hook nose, sallow complexion, careworn forehead, beady black eyes...he was beginning to develop jowls. No, he could hardly blame Persephone for choosing someone else. He just had to hope Draco Malfoy was not the playboy his reputation sometimes suggested. As bad as it was to lose her, it would be worse to see her used and discarded.

He went through his lessons automatically, showing no emotion, doing his best not to feel. He wished he could not hear the first year girls whisper.

"You know that silver girl walked with us up to the Astronomy Tower," one of his Slytherins whispered to a Gryffindor friend. "I think they must have been snogging or something. They were still on the stairs when we came out, and he kept her down in the common room with him after we went to bed."

"Wow," the Gryffindor whispered back. "You think that article about him was-?"

"No talking," Severus admonished, and they fell mercifully silent.

She was waiting for him again outside his office when classes finished. He knew it was unfair, but he could not bring himself to greet her. He merely unlocked the door and walked inside. She followed him and closed it behind.

He set his notes down on his desk and swallowed. She slipped her hand in his, and for one terrible moment, he hoped she had been used, that her innocence was gone, and when Draco left her, she would be broken down with only him to comfort her. In the next second, he turned enough to see her eyes and hated himself for the thought. She needed his protection, not his self pity. He loved her and could never wish her pain.

He put his mask of disinterested friend on and spoke without emotion. "Persephone, I think we need to talk about Draco Malfoy."

Her features lit up. "Oh, Draco! I love Draco!" She smiled brightly while the knife twisted in his heart, but he refused to show it. "He's absolutely adorable, don't you think?" He did not know what to think. All he could do was keep the mask in place. "It's like someone took the best of Lucius and Narcissa, blended it together and added something a little extra."

"I need to sit down." He released her hand and settled onto the bench.

"Can you _believe_ that Quibbler article?" she said, crossing her arms indignantly. "I guess someone must have seen us, but a 'girl-in-every-town'? That's ridiculous." Severus managed a nod. "I mean Draco's such a little innocent," she laughed. "I gave him a kiss on the cheek to thank him for rescuing me, and you'd think he'd never been kissed before."

Severus blinked. "A kiss on the cheek?"

"Well, he did rescue me."

The Potions Master felt himself sag with relief and raised a hand to his mouth. Damn. He was smiling again. He used his hand to cover it. Yes, he had been foolish. He would not go so far to call Draco Malfoy an innocent, but he was well aware the boy's reputation was far overblown.

"Draco's a perfect gentleman," Persephone continued. "I mean...well, money was tight at the hotel, so I just got the cheapest room with a double bed, but he didn't complain about it. He let me in the bathroom first and borrow some of his robes to sleep in." The jealousy relit, but it was more of a flickering candle than the burning flame from before. "He even let me dye his hair brown, so we wouldn't stick out so much." Dumbledore had left out that detail. "He was even polite to Harry's uncle."

She stepped forward and held out her hands for his again. Severus took them. "Draco's really scared of something," she confided. "You'll help him, won't you, Severus? You'll protect him for me?"

Severus allowed his thumb to trace over her knuckles. "Of course."

oOo

* * *

oOo

He regained his balance for Friday, finally managed some dramatics for his first years, quizzed his fourth years and made the rounds to check their potions. It helped that Persephone was sitting with the sixth years again and not Draco. He enjoyed his Advanced classes more than the others. They were generally sifted down to students who could keep up with him. Persephone, in her quest to learn everyone's name, had settled herself beside Ginny Weasley. She grinned at him, ready to play this game of student and teacher. Sitting beside Persephone, Ginny Weasley reminded him faintly of Lily Evans. He thanked the stars Potter did not stalk her the way James had Lily, that would have been disturbingly Oedipal.

He shook his head to clear it. It was hardly the boy's fault he did not favor his mother, was it? "Advanced Potions..." he began. He caught Persephone's grin again and started to see the humor in the situation. "Advance Potions requires a higher level of inquiry and attention to detail than has previously been expected." Persephone propped her chin on her hand, still grinning, but also giving him her full attention. He forced himself to look at another student, but it was a war to fight down his own smile. "Thankfully we are no longer bogged down by those who can not follow a simple list of instructions." He spotted Luna Lovegood who had a table to herself and appeared to be watching a spider build a web in the far corner. This would have annoyed him more if her work had not been consistently perfect. "This year will be heavy on theory."

"I love theory," Persephone said out loud, which caused several other students to snicker and her cheeks to redden.

Severus paused and took in a slow breath. He knew the entire class was waiting to see how he would handle this interruption. "Then you should thoroughly enjoy the class, Ms...?"

"P.," she supplied, with an appropriate look of chagrin.

All he could do was try to keep his smile small and plunge forward. "We will start with Golpalott's Four Laws..." He managed to make it through the class. Persephone had redeemed herself by listing Golpalott's Four Laws and expanding on the second one, demonstrating that it was indeed theory she loved.

Persephone stalled afterwards, waved her friends along and spent a little time chatting with Ginny Weasley, slipping in a few questions about Harry. Lovegood had sat and watched them, until Ginny had left and collected her Ravenclaw friend. Severus had sat at his desk during this time, pretending to grade papers, though there really was not much to grade during the first week. He usually started with practical lessons.

Persephone perched herself on the student table nearest his desk. "You're a really good teacher," she said with an appreciative smile.

Severus shrugged. "I make no aims for popularity, but I get reasonable pass rates on the O.W.L.s and I've never had a N.E.W.T. level student fail their exam."

"I'll try not to break your perfect record. Could you explain the Fourth Law for me?" They talked theory for three hours.

oOo

* * *

oOo

On Saturday afternoon, he got the details of her travels to London, which were fairly comic when viewed in retrospect. She continued to expertly dodge specific information about where they were escaping from. All Severus could determine for certain was that they approached London from the west which would be consistent with a flight from Wiltshire but hardly excluded other origins.

He walked down to the Three Broomsticks that evening for his regular meeting with the Grey Beards. It was not a true club, more of a meeting of old men who had hit that comfortable period of life where they had little better to do with their time than debate arcane matters of thaumaturgy that struck their fancy. Several of them had been young men together and shared an ease of camaraderie Severus had no hope of gaining, but they were kind enough to him. His relative youth amused them. He alone possessed neither grey hair nor beard, but he craved the intellectual stimulation they provided the way a drowning man gulped for air or a parched desert vagabond sought water.

Tonight however he was too full of her to pay attention.

"You see the Avada Kedavra was initially developed for medicinal purposes to eradicate growths and cancers-"

"Unsuccessfully developed."

"Eh. Ultimately, but-" A week of her. Her warmth still lingered on his hands. "-could be used by healers if further experimentation in a methodical method-" Her powdery scent... "What do you think, Severus?"

"Pardon?"

"The healing application of the killing curse," one wizened Grey Beard looked down a long, frail nose at him. "You seem a bit distracted tonight, my boy?"

"Forgive me, first week of classes."

"There's a rumor that you've found another silver child," said a second man with little hair, but an impressively long mustache. "Is she much like the first one?"

Severus felt his lip twitch. "The resemblance is uncanny."

"That is something I would like to study." This was a third man with a full grey beard and spectacles.

"I'm afraid we can't allow methodical experimentation on students," Severus said dryly, and this earned him a chuckle. "Which is the main problem with your original supposition. You may find a short list of willing subjects for your killing curse inspired healing spells."

oOo

* * *

oOo

Dumbledore called him to his office the next evening. Severus took the fireplace to avoid anyone in the halls who might take note of their private meetings. The Headmaster was seated behind his grand claw-footed desk. The Daily Prophet, that horrendous Quibbler Article, and several other parchments and periodicals were splayed out on the desk before him. There was a tray of tea and biscuits which sat on the desk corner in cheerful contrast to Dumbledore's grim mood. "Come in, Severus." His long fingers beckoned him though he did not look up from the documents. "There's still no news from Evra Tomes."

Severus knew the middle-aged witch from the Avon River Library from before his Hogwarts days when she was newly married. He still remembered the funny look she had given him when he told her he was studying curses and the change in her expression when he explained his Auror ambition. She had recommended the novels of Zeno, but he had insisted on non-fiction. When _A Children's Guide to Mischievous Magic_ failed to impress him, she had acquiesced and found him a copy of _A Study of the Dark Arts_ which was a thick, dry text, heavy on theory. Severus had loved it.

"What news were you expecting?"

"I forgot you were in Siberia," said Dumbledore with a small twitch of a smile. "Mrs. Tomes was more recently inducted into the Order. She volunteered to scout the Malfoy Manor for us."

Severus twitched. "When was this?"

"Over a week ago, the night before Mr. Malfoy's flight...or possibly the same evening, depending on the time between his departure and the discovery of his absence."

As certainly as Severus had known Persephone was alive, he knew Evra Tomes was dead. He hoped the life of one was not the price of freedom for the other, but it was hard to believe they were not connected.

"Voldemort has not tried to summon you?" asked Dumbledore, his gaze flickering to Snape's left arm.

Severus shook his head. "He knew I had business out of the country, and my time away from Hogwarts must be sparing. If you like, I can try to make contact."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Better to wait, I think. We don't want to draw more attention to our refugees than necessary."

Severus nodded and took a biscuit.

"The Baron tells me Ms. P. has been a frequent guest in your office."

"We have catching up to do."

There was kindness in Dumbledore's tired smile but also worry. "Has she given you any further details of her captivity or rescue?" Severus shook his head, not thinking her dream babies were any of Dumbledore's business. "Severus...I am happy you have your friend back, but please be cautious. We don't know how this has changed her."

oOo

* * *

oOo

Monday morning Severus watched Persephone eat breakfast with the Dey children and tried to hide his grimace. He did not know the boy very well, but he knew his father. Mudada Dey was a fanatic who had become obsessed with the Dark Lord's rise through books and news reports in his youth and had transplanted his wife and two small children from Africa to England when he heard rumor of the Dark Lord's return.

Severus had never quite figured out which country the Deys were from. Mudada refused to acknowledge Muggle governments or really any authority other than his own and Lord Voldemort's. Among the Death Eaters, there were rumors he had ruled over an isolated tribe of Muggles in his homeland. When he said "MY country", he said it with every level of possessive one could imagine.

Victoria Dey was a gloomy, perfectly behaved child. He had worried the boy might be a smaller version of his father, but their brief interactions during the first week had given Severus little sense of him. He paid more attention on Tuesday morning. Thomas, who he suspected had been named in honor of Tom Riddle, was a quiet, nervous child. He reminded Severus a little of himself at the same age, beaten down, awkward, unhappy but hopeful. Thomas was tiny, where Severus had merely been scrawny, stocky where he had been gangly. Where Severus had found a patron in Lucius Malfoy, Thomas seemed to have found one in Charles Bulstrode.

Charles and Millicent Bulstrode were his first cousins, though he often forgot this. He and Millicent had formed a sort of unspoken camaraderie, where he would discourage any disparaging word directed against her, and he had overheard her rise to his defense a few times. While the Dey siblings were strikingly similar, Charles and Millie were about as different as two people who shared parents could be. Millie was tall, hefty, and not a particularly handsome girl with black hair nearly as lifeless as Snape's own. Charles on the other hand was delicate in the sort of way that promised handsome features with puberty. His fair brown hair was short but full, his eyes an interesting hazel, unlike Millicent's dark brown. Where Millicent was a solidly decent girl of modest intelligence, Charles was quick, precise with his potions, easy with his friends, but already campaigning for his prefect badge. Severus made a mental note to warn the other teachers about him.

Persephone had been preoccupied for the last two days, and that afternoon she came to him as Head of Slytherin House and expressed her concern for the Dey children. Inwardly Severus cursed himself for not guessing Mudada gave his children far worse than the verbal tongue lashings of which his father had been so fond. Outwardly he reassured Persephone he would take care of the matter and that the Dey children were safe at Hogwarts until summer. Unfortunately it was not as simple a matter as requesting a Ministry investigation, which would be his normal course. The Dark Lord expected Snape to show favoritism to his fellow Death Eaters, and Snape doubted he would share his concern for the children's safety, at least not enough to excuse Ministry interference.

A month ago, he might have gone to Lucius for a more subtle form of justice, but he no longer felt he could trust Lucius. That hurt more than he cared to admit, to regain one best friend only to lose the other. He could still turn to Dumbledore for advice, but it had always been nice to have Lucius there for the parts of him Dumbledore would not approve or could not understand.

His role as double agent had forced him to lie to Lucius, to know there would come a time when their friendship would most likely end in betrayal. And Lucius had disappointed him, assuring him his role with the Death Eaters was far behind him, then starting that mess at the World Cup and answering the Dark Lord's summons to the graveyard. When Potter had named him as being among the circle...well, Severus had never foreseen a day when Igor Karkaroff would show more backbone than Lucius Malfoy. However, these disappointments had merely shown him that Lucius's character was consistent. He had always had a cruel streak, always been too caught up in his blood purity nonsense, always had a fascination with power and the dark arts.

Severus had flattered himself that he was one of the few allowed to see the full spectrum of Lucius Malfoy, his enigmatic mix of pride and compassion. He had watched him file his perfect nails to nubs when Narcissa had feigned interest in that boy from Ravenclaw. Seen him squat beside his two year old son to explain his distinct approach to riding a broom. Severus remembered how upset he had been when Draco's flying instructor had declared his style "wrong".

He could not make these memories fit with the evidence that connected Lucius to Persephone's abduction. He had seen Lucius lie and manipulate other people with a frightening expertise. It had never occurred to Severus that Lucius might see him merely as a tool, another puppet whose strings he could pull when he wanted a dance.

He wanted to think Lucius would be as disgusted by Mudada's behavior as he was, but if Lucius could lie so well, there would be no way to ever know.

oOo

* * *

oOo

There had been some question when Severus first started teaching at Hogwarts whether he might be too young for the position. At twenty he had started his career teaching students with whom he had formerly been a housemate, though none with which he had been friendly. He had developed an acid tongue, and an _I-am-not-your-friend_ attitude to create the needed distance between himself and the teenagers under his watch. At that tender age when most men were seeking their life mate, Severus was still too determined to find Persephone and too busy punishing himself for failing at it to notice, much less be tempted by, any hopeful glances from teenage girls. He designed his wardrobe to be intimidating rather than appealing and assumed crooked teeth and greasy hair would continue to be unappealing to teenage girls as they had when he himself had been a student.

For the most part this tactic worked and he spent little time pondering the fancies of female students. Minerva had quietly pulled him aside one day during his second year as a professor to warn him another professor had got wind of a plot to slip him a love potion, and he needed to take extra care not to give the impression he would entertain advances from female students. This had confused him so badly he had slipped away the same evening to consult Lucius for advice. After he had stopped laughing, Lucius had poured him a drink, advised he take it as a compliment, never eat gift food without testing it first, and leave his office door open when advising female students.

After a decade he had determined that teacher crushes were a bizarre but ultimately meaningless phase not uncommon to teenagers. He had stopped taking them seriously when he overheard a fifteen year old compose a sonnet to Minerva McGonagall, who had just celebrated her sixty-fifth, in the lavatory. He had terrified the lad by emerging from his stall and complimenting him on his iambic pentameter.

He had done the boy the service of not repeating the story, however strong the temptation had been. To his knowledge, Professor McGonagall had never received her sonnet.

After a decade it had been hard to maintain his hope that he might be reunited with his lost silver girl, much less that a reunion would lead to a lasting romance. He tried, if for no other reason than he thought someone ought to, but his eye had begun to wander. It was still very rare that a student would inspire any level of interest in him. His sense of propriety protested against it too strongly. Besides most teenage girls were far too silly, wore too much makeup, and looked far too young. He had kept up a ban on former students as well, until Professor Sinistra had taken pity on him.

"Severus, you've been teaching for nearly fifteen years. Unless you look outside the country, nearly every single witch in England is going to be a former student. Yes, it would be highly inappropriate to pursue current ones, but they all leave school eventually. You're not their teacher then." Before he had had a chance to fully ponder this perspective, the Dark Lord had returned, and pursing females of any age had become the last thing on his mind.

However, if there was one student who Severus would have been tempted to look up after she left Hogwarts, it was Indigo Stump. Daughter of an Italian wizard and Japanese witch, who had settled in England to invest in the recovering magical economy, Indigo had a shy beauty that Severus found very appealing. She had no resemblance at all to Persephone in either looks or temperament, which he thought would be good for him. Indigo was always perfectly attentive, wrote thoughtful essays in an elegant script, smiled shyly when he complimented her work, and read for pleasure. She had gone through six years with long, straight, black hair and thick bangs which touched the top of her glasses. Her myopia was mild, but the lenses caused some distortion to her large, almond shaped eyes, hiding their full beauty. She had a bad tendency to slouch, but otherwise moved with an understated grace.

As soon as he was aware of this attraction, Severus had taken extra care never to be anywhere alone with her, even for the most innocent reasons. He never called on her when another student had raised their hand, unless she had patiently raised her hand more than three times in a row. He did not spend any more time checking her potions than was absolutely necessary. With strict adherence to these simple tactics, he was satisfied she had no reason to suspect any interest from him and intended to keep it that way until Hogwarts was far behind her.

Persephone's return had pushed Indigo Stump entirely from his mind. Persephone's return had pushed many things from his mind, and the Deys' difficulties made him fear he was neglecting his students. If Persephone had not returned, then he might have found Indigo's dramatic hair cut, unnaturally colored, and the loss of the glasses to be disappointing. Now he merely found these changes concerning.

The temptation gone, he called her to his office after dismissing his seventh year students, which had the added benefit of allowing him to avoid questioning Draco a little longer. By the second week, Indigo's hair had settled from shock red to a more natural auburn, but it was not her hair experiments that concerned him.

"Have a seat Miss Stump." He settled himself behind his desk as she took the seat in front of him, more curious than concerned. "I can't help but notice you've made some drastic changes to your appearance. I understand many girls like to experiment at this age, but I wanted to be sure nothing more traumatic had occurred."

"What?" Indigo peeped. Her brow knit in mild confusion.

"Has anything unpleasant happened to you to inspire this change," he clarified, unsure if she had truly misunderstood or simply been surprised by the question.

"Oh," Indigo said, her brow relaxing. "No, nothing like that. I've just...well, I've been kind of invisible. You know to boys, and I...I was sort of hoping if I changed a few things, he might notice me."

"He?"

She blushed prettily. "You know...Draco Malfoy." She said the name with a wistful sigh.

Severus managed not to release his frustrated growl, but he could not entirely keep the disgust from his tone. "Surely you can find a better object for your affection than Mr. Malfoy!" he groused, knowing the comment was inappropriate, but a man had his limits.

Indigo's eyes widened, and her lips twitched with flattered embarrassment. "I think he's just having a hard time right now, with his father missing, but he's so...you know." Her shrug said, _Handsome_.

Severus rubbed his temple. "Regardless, no boy is worth endangering your eyesight over. I'm familiar with the sort of transfigurations used to correct vision, and the risk for permanent damage is very strong. Even great wizards like Albus Dumbledore choose to wear glasses rather than risk their sight for vanity."

Indigo straightened up and relaxed with understanding. "Oh, I'm not using magic," she laughed. "Contact lenses. It's...well, they're a Muggle invention. Daphne turned me onto them. I have to be careful to clean them, but the healers assured me they're not dangerous. I mean Daphne's parents work for St. Mungo's, so I figure they should know."

Severus cringed. He had suspected Daphne's influence, but at least this did not sound as bad as what he had feared. "I'll have to investigate these _contact lenses_," he said, not sure when he'd have a chance to do so, but they sounded like a good thing to have in his arsenal for future teenage girls with more insecurities than sense.

"Are-are you disappointed in me, sir?" Indigo asked earnestly.

Snape shook his head. "You're free to go, Miss Stump."

oOo

* * *

oOo

Persephone was not waiting outside his office when Indigo left. He thought she might not come, but thirty minutes late, she did. She took his hands, insisted on talking about the Dey children a little more. She laughed over his assessment of Charles and spent the next two hours trying to pry details out of him about his seventh year and the fate of this couple or that friend. He doubted the conversation would have entertained anyone but her. Persephone however was hungry for this minutia, and he did his best to provide it.

They parted for dinner. Severus took a direct route and she made a trip back to the Slytherin dormitories, so they would arrive at different times. He had been at the high table a good twenty minutes before she wandered through the doors with a distracted expression. She took her seat again on Draco's left, which had always been Narcissa's place with Lucius.

Where Lucius had otherwise surrounded himself with his Quidditch team and other male friends who he considered to have equal social standing, Draco's crowd was mainly female. Crabbe and Goyle were on his right, Zabini was left of Persephone, but there was an entire row of females before Draco that seemed to be vying for his attention. They were doing a ridiculous amount of giggling. Malfoy looked his way, and Severus felt his lip twitch in disgust before he realized he was staring and looked away.

He retired early that evening. He was dressed for bed in his black night clothes and

turning back the onyx sateen sheets when a loud pounding interrupted his quiet solitude. With a grimace, he shrugged on his ebon silk dressing gown, drowsily contemplated adding a color to his wardrobe, and opened the door. "Mr. Filch," he drawled from exhaustion and annoyance.

The gnarled Caretaker gave him an eager half-sneer by way of greeting. "I caught that Malfoy boy fraternizing with the new transfer in the trophy room."

"Fraternizing?"

Filch nodded. "Against the rules, ought to give them both a punishment."

Severus's hand tensed against the door frame, but having jumped to the wrong conclusion quite recently, he took more care to get all the facts. "What exactly did you see?"

"They had their arms around each other. Bet there was plenty I didn't see."

Snape glared, but more at Filch than the mental image. Persephone hugged people. It was something she did, and he doubted there had been more to it. Even if it was Draco Malfoy she was hugging, he could not drudge up any jealousy. He was more annoyed by Filch questioning her honor.

"I'm not punishing students for hugging."

Filch sneered. "He disrespected me, called me a...a filthy squib."

Snape raised his eyebrow slightly. "Now that is rude. I'll certainly consider the detention."

Filch nodded sharply, lip curling. Snape knew admitting the real reason for his anger had cost him.

The man left, and Snape sighed. He could use a hug himself, for now he had the unpleasant mental image of Draco and Persephone doing more. Still it left him more disgusted than jealous. There was something incestuous and indecent about the two of them together. Two bright angels in a dark world. He loved both of them, though in very different ways. It had been bad enough to think he might lose her to Lucius, but to Lucius's son? A disgusted shiver went through him.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Having found some peace about the Deys, Persephone regaled him with stories about her Muggle Studies class with an enthusiasm that reminded him she was still very young. Then she asked if he would take her on a Muggle outing sometime, which reminded him they had been young together and he had promised to join her on such an expedition.

He considered asking Dumbledore if she could stay the summer with him. He also pondered not asking Dumbledore and doing it anyway. She would be seventeen by then. Unfortunately both options had the same set of problems. He needed to play his role with the Death Eaters until Harry Potter or someone less bound by prophecy made an end to Lord Voldemort. He also needed to play his role as teacher, her teacher, and that brought up all manner of ethical complications.

He could keep the summer visit entirely chaste, a cohabitation of two good friends in different bedrooms, but the hope of keeping such a thing secret was slim. The sort of gossip someone crossing their path in Paris or on Corsica would generate could easily destroy his reputation and hers. Unfairly but thoroughly.

"Are you angry with Draco?" Persephone asked, pulling him from his reverie.

"I'm concerned," Severus admitted. He had told Lucius Draco was too young to be brought into the fold.

_He'll be seventeen_ _soon_, Lucius had said with a shrug and a tone of disinterest that lead Severus to believe the Malfoys had not been consulted on the matter.

There had been others things he had wanted to say. Draco was too delicate, too gentle natured, too sheltered...but his protestations would have sounded weak, were not entirely true, and would have undermined his position as spy, so he stayed silent. He wanted to ask Lucius if he thought Draco would accept, but the real question was how could he refuse. The Dark Lord did not take kindly to being told no. As his pupil and unofficial godson, Draco had many qualities Severus did admire, but bravery was not among them.

"He's really worried about it," Persephone continued, her finger lightly tracing his knuckles. He wondered if she realized how weak that made him. "You should talk to him."

Severus knew he should have talked to Draco the first night of his return, but he had been dreading the conversation and put it off. He did not want to have it confirmed that the ten-year-old boy he had tutored in Potions before he received his Hogwarts letter and five years later had taught Occlumency in his office, now shared the same disfiguration on his left arm. He did not want the Dark Lord to have Draco. He clung to the hope that his return of Persephone was a sign of character growth and defiance, but that topic was another on which he feared answers. He needed to know where Draco had found her, but he did not want to have his fears confirmed.

There was a third reason. He was ashamed of his jealousy. Persephone's clear affection for Draco was perfectly natural. Blaming the boy for it was vulgar. If Draco found her appealing, this only showed he had more depth and better taste than the average teenage boy. Besides the boy was afraid, and Severus knew how comforting she could be. The knowledge that he was being selfish and petty did little to abate the feeling. He could not escape the gossip about their relationship. Even in the staff room, Sybill had the gall to ask him if Ms. P dating Draco Malfoy bothered him. Before Snape could growl a reply, Sinistra kindly insisted this was just a rumor, and she was pretty sure Draco was interested in someone else. Severus had started avoiding the staff room.

He watched Draco during their next class. The boy looked nervous and guilty every time he caught Snape watching him. This was just as well. He was more likely to get the truth out of him if he was kept off balance.

The students finished their _Patafacere Potion_ and began bringing their assignments to his desk. Longbottom's was at least the right color. That was encouraging. He was another boy who had grown tall. Severus took a grim satisfaction in knowing Potter would always be shorter than him. Egads, he had gotten petty.

Draco suddenly gained a cavalier attitude. He watched the boy twirl the vial in his fingers. It would serve him right if...

"Damn it, Patil," Draco swore. The potentially valuable amber liquid was now splattered on the legs of his desk and the stone floor.

"You will watch your language in the classroom," Severus rebuked him. "And if you had held that vial more carefully, you might have saved your grade on this assignment."

"But, sir-" Pansy Parkinson began. He silenced her with a look. That never would have worked on Narcissa.

"It will be a zero for today, Mr. Malfoy." Draco hung his head, but Severus thought he saw the glimmer of a smirk. "And you will see me after class." Now he looked properly miserable.

"My office," Severus said after the bell rang. Once inside, he closed the door and gestured to the two chairs facing the desk. "Have a seat."

Malfoy remained standing. "Are you angry with me, sir?"

"Should I be?"

"I don't see _why_," Draco whined, suddenly sounding like a first year. "_I brought her back_. I thought you'd be happy."

Severus bit back a sigh. "I am glad to have her back. But Persephone refuses to tell me where she has been or who is responsible for her disappearance. I was hoping you could enlighten me."

"No sir, I can't."

Severus narrowed his eyes, trying to read Draco. "Can't or won't?"

"Can't, I promised." It even sounded like a lie.

Severus was in no mood to entertain a lie, particularly one that was equally irritating if true. "I do not care about your promises," he said in a dangerous voice, though he checked his volume. "This is not some child's game, Mr. Malfoy. Persephone has been missing for twenty-one years. She vanished without a clue, without a reason. I have searched every inch of England, followed every lead to its dead end, and still lack explanation. Where was she?"

The boy looked at him pitifully, petulantly. "What does it matter? She's safe now."

"How can I know that, if I don't know what happened in the first place?" Severus heard the crack in his own voice. He was on verge of either strangling Draco or crying with frustration, and since neither would gain him information, he took a moment to compose himself. He paced to his desk, decided on a new tactic, and firmly fixed his mask in place. This secret gave Draco power over him, and Severus needed to take that power away.

"Sit down, Mr. Malfoy."

This time Draco did sit. He looked defeated but forced himself to meet Snape's steady gaze.

The key now was to keep Draco off balance, so Severus spoke in an almost conversational tone. "I don't suppose at any point during your long lost summer you saw your father?"

"No, sir."

"Hmph." Severus perched himself on the edge of his desk and studied Draco. The boy focused on his cheekbone, avoiding direct eye contact like a good Occlumens. He had been a good pupil. Time to rattle him.

"Let me show you something," said Severus, carefully modulating his voice to draw the boy in, and it worked. Draco leaned forward, curious. Severus rolled up his sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark.

The reaction was instant. Draco jerked back in his chair, belatedly tried to hide his panic, but his wide eyes and tense body language betrayed him. Whatever the boy had done, he did not think Lord Voldemort would like it. Severus pressed his advantage. "Why did you run away from the manor?"

"I—Persephone—" the young man stammered.

He had forgotten his Occlumency, and Severus was able to view a confused flash of images, a large attic, a portrait, Persephone, Death Eaters, robes, masks, Lucius, a familiar Victorian sofa. "You found her in the manor. The attic she was in. It was yours."

Draco winced, which was like a confirmation. He blinked and Severus lost him. Draco had found the presence of mind to Occlude. If Severus was lucky, he would rely too heavily on mental magic and forget his body language. "Is_ he _there?"

Draco looked confused. "I don't-" He stopped with a suspicious glance.

Severus was losing him, but he needed to know. His voice became pleading. "Was it—was it Lucius?"

"No," Draco replied so quickly, with genuine surprise at the suggestion, there was no guile.

The boy knew. The boy knew exactly who it was, but all that seemed to matter now was that it was not Lucius. Severus was too overwhelmed with relief to question him further. He dropped his head in his hands. "Thank God," he muttered. He took a few moments to breath, to pack away his suspicions, to put Lucius back in his category of friend. A dangerous friend, but a friend all the same.

He brought his head up and saw Draco watching him. No doubt the boy was more confused than ever. His eyes kept flitting to the exposed mark. "Ugly, isn't it?" he asked Draco.

The boy neither answered nor nodded.

There was something else Severus needed to know, but he was more optimistic now. "Show me your forearm, Draco."

Draco rolled back his sleeve obediently. Severus took his arm in hand and rubbed his thumb on the unblemished skin of Draco's forearm looking for some sign of concealment. Finding nothing, he released him, and they both pulled their sleeves down. There was a long, awkward silence that followed. Draco was not as far gone as he feared, but he knew the boy was struggling, otherwise he would have come to Dumbledore more openly. The trouble was how to approach him. Openly admitting that he spied for the Order was dangerous for both of them. Allowing Draco to believe he was loyal to Voldemort set a bad example. No this required a level of doublespeak, which Severus loathed but had a talent for.

Draco seemed to be going through a similar internal debate and asked at length. "Why do you wear the Dark Mark, sir?"

Severus smiled sadly at him. "Because a long time ago I lost something, and I thought the Dark Lord could help me find it. And because all my friends were wearing one." He hoped Draco would understand and not think too poorly of him. He needed to simplify, but he did not want to sugar coat. "The Dark Lord burns it on with a black fire and a sort of branding iron like one would use on cattle. The process was extremely painful, and it still burns."

The boy blanched. "Why are you telling me this?"

Unfortunately, he had to leave that for Draco to sort out for himself. "Don't act stupid." There was someone else who deserved answers. "There was a librarian who disappeared the same day you left home. A witch named Evra Tomes. Do you know what happened to her?"

"No," said Draco, but he would not look him in the eye.

"Poor Evra," Severus said without inflection. The boy twitched, and Severus had to hope growing guilt would work its magic. "You may go, Mr. Malfoy."

He knew the boy needed time, but the confused relief on his face reminded Severus he also needed a consequence. "And you will be receiving a detention."

"Detention?" Draco gaped. "For what?"

"For back talking to a member of the staff. Mr. Filch heard your Squib comment. You will meet him this evening in the trophy room after Quidditch practice, and I suggest you undertake whatever task he has for you with the appropriate attitude and respect. It is not wise for someone in your position to burn any more bridges."

Draco also needed a warning. Severus could not risk another bludger incident. "I have given you every opportunity that I can, Mr. Malfoy. There will be no more second chances. I will not hesitate to expel you if you give me any reason to do so, and I think you realize what that will mean."

Draco nodded numbly and shuffled towards the door.

"All that being said," said Severus softly. "I am grateful."

oOo

* * *

oOo

Persephone did not come that evening, which was just as well. He needed to recover and grade the papers for her class on Friday. Again, it was much easier grading advanced classes than the lower years. The sentences were far more likely to begin with capital letters and end in periods, the ideas were worthy to be called such, and fewer people resorted to copying the textbook. He only had vague memories of Persephone's school work. She often had him check over her essays. He had a sense of them being extremely neat and organized, every sentence clear, every paragraph a single idea with appropriate examples. They were a little on the dull side, but such things were rarely graded for their wit or artistic merit. She clearly understood Golpalott's Four Laws, so he was curious to see if she would make an extra effort for him, insert an academic joke or make an unusual analogy. He finished grading ten papers before he spotted her handwriting. The top of the page read like a love letter.

_For 6th Year Advance Potions_

_Professor Snape_

_An Essay on Golpalott's Four Laws_

_By Perspehone P._

But below that...the lovingly round, neat handwriting dissolved into a less regular slant. In and of itself, he could have dismissed the calligraphy, but the words... He reread the essay five times, (It was very short.) hoping for some hint of avant-garde brilliance, but no. It was simply terrible. Far more worthy of Gregory Goyle than Persephone Potter. It vexed him, because he knew she could do better. He was troubled to think she might use their friendship to slide by on her assignments. It was unlike her. Dumbledore's warning tickled at the edge of his mind, but he flicked it away.

Or tried.

It was gnawing on him the next day, when she stopped by his office, apologizing that she could not stay long as some project demanded her attention. "Persephone...I had to give you a 'P'."

She blinked and looked a little embarrassed. "Oh...sorry about that. I just got busy and forgot. Was it really that bad?" But her wince told him she knew the answer.

"Don't break my perfect record." He had meant for it to sound like a joke, but he ended up sounding like a teacher.

Her face fell, and he wished he had not said it. "I'm sorry." She shrugged the book bag he had bought her higher on her shoulder. "I really should go." Her brow knitted, and she hesitated. "Tomorrow?"

He forced a smile to reassure her. "Please."

oOo

* * *

oOo

They played their game of student and teacher on Friday, though she raised her hand a little less. The sixth year girls swept her off with them after class. On Saturday she was busy with some birthday party in the Slytherin common room. He decided not to inflict the students with his presence unless the prefects summoned him. They lunched in his office on Sunday, and he told her a little about the conversation with Draco then.

Her lips twitched with a not quite smile as though she understood things he did not. Her hand rested on his, her fingers kicking at his fork. "I'm sorry to make you think that about Lucius. I want to say he would never do such a thing, but I don't know anymore."

"He wouldn't do it to you," Severus reassured her. "He was as worried about you as I was. He told me to keep looking. Eventually he was the only one who encouraged me to keep looking."

For a moment, her face took on a pained look and he thought she might cry, but she closed her eyes and composed herself. "I keep thinking about him," she admitted. "When I look at Draco, I keep seeing Lucius."

"Are you worried Draco is going to make the same choices Lucius did?" _Are you still in love with him?_

She shook her head. "I won't let him, and I don't think he wants to. He said he won't take the mark."

"I'm sure you're a good influence on him," Severus said. He had played the disinterested friend for four years before she left. The role was getting easier now.

"I'm trying," she said. She tapped her index finger on his unresponsive hand. "Severus, Draco said...well, there's been a lot rumors. You don't listen to rumors do you?"

He put his fork down. "What sort of rumors?"

"Well, some people seem to think Draco and I are dating, because we spend a lot of time together. I tell them we're not, but—he's been a really good friend, so sweet!—but he's a baby, isn't he? He's Lucius's baby, and Narcissa's. All grown up, but it would be creepy. I'd be a creepy old lady. I'm old enough to be his aunt."

Severus chuckled and let his fingers wrap around hers. "Unfortunately, you look more like his sister."

"I _am_ Harry's aunt. Harry's going to think I'm creepy, isn't he?"

He could not help himself. He laughed.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Draco was watching him again in their next Potions class, but the fear was gone, replaced by something more like compassion. Severus was intrigued. The boy looked healthier, less pale. Quidditch at least was doing him some good. It did not worry him that Persephone had not told Harry her secret. She could stall all year as far as he was concerned. Potter seemed no worse for it. Severus assigned an essay and waited while the students set the day's work on his desk and filtered out of the classroom. Draco lingered, and Severus knew he wanted to talk. He pretended not to notice, allowed Draco to make the first move.

When the class had cleared completely, Draco spoke in a low, conspiratorial tone. "She asked about you. It was nearly one of the first things she said when I found her. She was worried that you had forgotten about her."

This had not been what Severus was expecting. Maybe Draco understood more than he accredited him. "It helped. Those lessons you gave me. I wouldn't have been able to rescue her without them. So thank you."

Severus could not help a checking glance around the room. He had not told Dumbledore about those particular lessons and would rather not explain them. "You're welcome."

Draco perched himself on one of the tables with a relaxed smile. Oh, yes, he was certainly feeling more himself. "You know someone started a rumor that we're dating." Draco gave a light laugh, to illustrate the humor of the idea. "Absolute nonsense of course. I mean she's a sweet girl and all, but not my type. I haven't really corrected anyone though. It keeps the hopefuls away. I figure she needs some time to settle into her classes before dealing with the advances of teenage boys."

"Mr. Malfoy, I'm afraid I don't really have much interest in your social life." Severus allowed his voice to betray nothing. The boy really should have closed the door first. "Your evening may be free, but I have another class coming so I suggest you take your books and move along."

Draco gave him a smile that was more like a wink and strolled out of the room. Severus rubbed his temples and felt a bubble of mirth at his own foolishness. Having Draco ferret out his secret should have been irritating, but instead it was a relief. He did not have a powerful rival but a perceptive, slightly mischievous ally.

oOo

* * *

**Next Chapter: **A trip down memory lane, unusually warm weather, and...


	3. Persephone

**Severus Snape and the Last Year**

By Carla Lute

**Notes: **If you want to go with the zippered, semi-chronological reading of the Last Year levels, you would read Level 3.3 right after Level 2.6: The Forum for the Discussion of Current Events (aka Chapter 9).

My original concept for this story was a G-rated Lolita, and this chapter in particular plays homage to that book. Obviously the story is PG-13, you can't keep a story G while involve Bellatrix, Lucius, and the Death Eaters, but there's an innocence to the relationship I really enjoy. Snape is the anti-Humbert. I recently reread Lolita, and the style of it (which is the true beauty of that awful story) strongly influenced this fic.

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on the Harry Potter novels written by J.K. Rowling. All characters created by J.K. Rowling are owned by J.K. Rowling. The few characters created by me (i.e. Persephone, Hotchet, Kagome…) belong to me, but are available for use in other fics as long as I get credited as their creator. None of us are making any money off this and no infringement is intended.

* * *

oOo

**Level 3.3: Persephone**

For him, she was always Persephone. Others gave her nicknames, Sephi, Seph, Ms. P., Pea., my darling, little bird, love; less kindly hissy, priss, puffskein, and banshee...the latter ones provided by her loving brother and his friends. But for Severus, she was always Persephone. Perhaps in a playful mood, he would tack on Elizabeth. Persephone Elizabeth, but still, always, first, Persephone. He liked how the name rolled off his tongue, four separate movements like a miniature song. Per-seph-on-e.

The first time he had seen her had been at the Avon River Library in Amesbury. He was clutching _A Study of the Dark Arts_ and exploring the shelves. The rows of thick volumes had filled him with a sense of wonder. He loved books. They were often his only comfort. He walked along the shelves slowly, reverently touching the spines in a silent greeting. For an eight year old, he had elegant fingers, long and white, but twitchy in their movements. Most of his wardrobe was black even then. His father believed in practical colors. His mother only required he dress neatly.

He moved silently, desperate to explore, but careful not to disturb anyone. He was making his halting way down a long row of leather and cloth bound covers with wide spines and titles like _Jasper's Jinx Compendium_ and _The Secrets of Merlin_, when he heard a girl's laughter.

"Mummy, read this to me!" the child's voice demanded.

"All right," a woman's gentle voice demonstrated the proper library volume but made no rebuke. Severus spied at them through a gap created by a few missing volumes. There was a lower children's shelf with a selection of far more colorful, far skinnier books partially obscuring his view. But he could see the woman was beautiful, not just in features but in manners which were soft and gentle. Her robes were modest, blue, simple, elegant. She sat close beside her daughter who must have been a year or two younger than Severus himself and put an arm around her.

It was the daughter who caught Severus's curiosity and caused him to stare. Her face was young and round with baby fat, but her hair was silver as an old woman's. Otherwise, she was a normal little girl in child's robes and a knee length play frock, but the hair and something about the eyes gave her a fey look. She wiggled on the bench to settle beside her mother. The silver hair caught the light and created a wild halo effect. This was intensified a moment later when she opened her book and a flurry of silvery illustrated butterflies, only outlines of light, flew off the page and encircled her. The girl squealed and laughed in delight. Her mother smiled and stroked her hair, calming her to a silent but remarkably bright smile. Severus had never seen anyone so unabashedly happy. The mother tried to draw the fey girl's attention to the book page and the words floating an inch or so above them. As she looked down, Severus thought she may have spotted him. Her bright smile took on a curious twist.

Before he could ponder his response, a stick of wood thrust dangerously close to his face and a sharp "Hah!" forced him to turn in its direction. Mistaking the stick for a wand, his mind full of curses and butterflies, he stumbled back and lost his footing. He landed on his rump, only barely holding onto his precious book.

"I caught you!" A boy near his own age was gazing down at him with a look of arrogant triumph on his otherwise handsome features. He was roughly Severus's height but his confidence and the fact Severus was forced to look up at him made him seem taller. The boy's hair was black, short, and unruly, though a lighter shade than Severus's own limp, black hair. He was wearing a neat set of burgundy robes which were left open to show his yellow-gold shirt and slightly ruffled but recently pressed slacks. He pointed the stick down at Severus as though it was a wand as his eyes wandered over the title of Severus's book. "I _knew_ you were a dark wizard. I'm going to be _Auror_! I catch dark wizards and send them to Azkaban."

Severus was smarting from the fall and the embarrassment of having been startled by a toy, though he did not put it past the belligerent boy to hit him with it. He was stunned by the audacity of the speech, but before he could open his mouth to explain his book, a woman's soft, firm voice called, "James! What are you doing?"

"I caught a spy!" James boasted with the same pride one might have felt for catching a real criminal.

The mother was unimpressed. Severus could no longer see her, but he could hear her exasperated expression. "Leave him _Alone_, and get back here!"

James grimaced, tucked his stick away in the robe's wand pocket, and dutifully marched back to his mother. But not without giving his victim a last, dirty look. Severus struggled to his feet and limped off as quickly as he could. He kept far from the children's section and went in search for a few more treasures in the scroll archives where the worst he endured were the glares of old, dusty wizards.

oOo

* * *

oOo

The first time he spoke to her was years later in a different library.

They both had been inducted into Lucius's crowd shortly after sorting. Third year Lucius Malfoy had leaned over to say a kind word to him after the hat put him in Slytherin. Severus had taken this as permission to try to engage Lucius in conversation in the common room that night. He was less intimidated by him than the prefects and wanted to know what to expect in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Lucius had been impressed by the depth of his questions and breadth of his knowledge about curses. Later he was delighted to find Severus had a double talent for potions.

"My mother would have me help her," shy Severus explained modestly. "She makes potions for St. Mungo's."

His mother was not pretty. She was a thin, hard face woman who demanded precision and tolerated no playing from her assistant. But she was very intelligent, usually reasonable, and always answered questions. Severus appreciated this about her.

Lucius was already a rising star in Slytherin. Half his friends were older students, many of old and influential families. Not all of them Slytherins. Lucius also had an affinity for Ravenclaws and would accept any Gryffindor or Hufflepuff who worked hard enough, bowed low enough, and had the right connections. He would trot out Severus for the older students as though he were a curiosity, the first year who knows more about curses coming in than most full grown wizards. He kept the potions side to himself, a secret weapon to enhance his own homework. "You should always hold something back," he advised his young prodigy. "Never let anyone figure you out entirely."

Severus had been delighted and surprised to be included in anything. His father had made a regular habit of calling him worthless and insisting that no one would want him. James Potter, now bespectacled, outed him to the entire first year class as a Dark Wizard, and unfortunately Lucius's well-intentioned attempts to show him off, secured this image in the mind of many students. In some circles this image helped rather than hurt his meager popularity. Many of his fellows were impressed that he was allowed to speak in the presence of Bellatrix Black, who was a fifth year and threatened to curse any underclassman who dared to bother her.

Unfortunately Bella and the boys she held court over were only interested in his knowledge of curses. She ridiculed his Auror aspirations. Rodolphus more kindly insisted he would out grow them. Lucius thought it was a waste of his talents. Severus attempted to repair James Potter's warped opinion of him with this explanation only to be laughed at by Potter's gang and ridiculed further. "Auror's office doesn't take dark wizards." Which had been cuttingly close to his father's comments on the subject.

Oh, how his father had yelled when he discover _A Study of the Dark Arts _and _A Compendium of Curses _on his son's bedside table. Towering with rage while his mother cried.

Only Narcissa, who even at twelve was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, gave him any encouragement. "I hope you do become an Auror," she said quietly when the others were out of earshot. "Then you can arrest my entire family."

He had been hopelessly devoted to her after that. The two of them clung close to Lucius for protection since Bellatrix insisted they be included on the edge of her circle. Narcissa was too pretty for her own good, already queen in her own year, and Bellatrix liked to keep her close as decoration.

Severus might have faded into obscurity, but James Potter had ambushed him in the hallway with his friend Black and insisted on a duel. They were only two weeks into classes, and Severus was anxious for Potter to forget about him. But the boys had been merciless. He tried to walk away, but they blocked his escape. He tried reminding them of school rules, but they only called him a coward. He tried insulting their intelligence, but this only strengthened their resolve to fight. He had been showing up a lot of people in class. "Come on, know-it-all. Defend yourself, or I'll knock you on your arse again!"

The argument had begun to draw a crowd. Severus's deep desire for accuracy made him want to point out that James had never knocked him down. But the eyes of the crowd made him mute, and the wand James pointed at him this time was real. He could not understand why no one would help him. Surely the unfairness was evident, two on one and Black so much taller. He tried backing away. Potter had pointed his wand and yelled "Stupify!", which did not work in the slightest, but in his attempt to dodge the unsuccessful spell, Severus had tripped over his own feet and fallen on his arse anyway. Black roared with laughter, a loud, fetching laugh that gained snickers from a few others. His white face flush with anger and embarrassment, Severus wrestled his wand out of his tangled robes and fired off the first two curses that came to mind.

Potter and Black had to be taken to the hospital wing, and Severus had gotten a week's worth of detention. The Slytherins thought it was brilliant. Bellatrix had given him the title of Curse Master, which had been a dubious honor for someone hoping to apply to the Aurors office. His father had sent him a howler, which loudly pronounced how he had known his son's unhealthy obsessions would lead to trouble. Lucius said howlers were tasteless. He would never inflict one on his son (and he never did, Lucius was consistent).

Severus had no friends in his own year. Many of the other students, even ones he would have liked to befriend, were afraid of him or being seen with him.

Lucius and Narcissa were far too popular to spend much social time on him. However, they allowed him to do homework with them since he was usefully swotty and not distracting. Lucius was quite boisterous during social occasions, but for "work" he demanded focus.

The incident in the halls had at least caused Potter and his friends to back off a bit. They still teased him, but no one attacked him. Severus made it through the rest of the year in relative obscurity, doing his best to fade into Lucius's shadow.

He had seen her for a second time the next year at the sorting ceremony, learned her name as Slughorn called her up to be sorted. Persephone Potter. Persephone. Silver Child. Potter le Fay. Daughter of Henry and Demetria. Unfortunate sister to a Gryffindor prat. James and his friends had snickered through her song spell. Severus watched his face fall and hers light up as the hat sorted her into Slytherin. Slytherin House had taken up the chorus, taking particular pleasure in the last line. _A girl that's well befriended_.

As the cheer went up, Lucius had actually given a quick one armed embrace to the blushing girl with the silver mop. Lucius liked to collect interesting people, and she was interesting.

oOo

* * *

oOo

"Severus, what do you think of these club ideas?" At sixteen going on thirty-six or thirty-six trying to act sixteen, she had not only embraced her natural popularity but was learning to wield it like a weapon.

He watched this with a fond mix of amusement and concern. Read her proposals. A Study Group, a Dueling Club, a Forum. "Looks like you're preparing the students for war."

She shrugged. Wide shoulders disturbing the silver strands that rested against her black robe. "We're at war. Shouldn't we prepare them?"

He nodded and returned her parchments.

"Would you supervise the Dueling Club? You said you wanted a chance to teach the Defense class. I thought this might be close."

He smiled at her. His sneaky little angel. "I'd be delighted."

"Good," she tucked her parchments away in her book bag and slipped her hand into his.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Hoping for a year of peace, that James might think more kindly of Slytherin since he had a relative there, twelve-year-old Severus tried to extend an olive branch. "So Persephone is your sister?"

James Potter glared back. "Stay away from my sister!"

That second year Severus had done his best to stay away from everybody. His friends seemed to have become unapproachable. Lucius had grown taller, more handsome, and made Chaser. Narcissa's developing figure had shot her up to a level of popularity that intimidated even her sister Bellatrix. His body by contrast had only grown more gangly and awkward.

Persephone was the house mascot. She stuck mostly to her first year friends, though some of the upperclassmen liked to ruffle her mop of silver hair for good luck. She had appealed to Lucius to end this practice. Lucius went to war for his girls that year.

Bellatrix Black was a handsome girl but loud, dark, and domineering. Narcissa was twice as pretty, blonde, graceful, and demure. Bella controlled her boys with a brutal mix of sex and dark magic, or at least the promise of them, Slytherin House spent years trying to shake the reputation she left behind. Narcissa would have nothing to do with either. Narcissa could get her way for the promise of a smile.

Bellatrix's growing jealousy of her beloved sister morphed into bullying, mostly verbal, but it crossed a line that Lucius was not willing to tolerate. He was careful not to make an enemy of Bellatrix, but he laid the ground work to replace her court with one of his own. Severus thought it was a little like watching the sun and the moon do battle. No one dared get in the way, no spells were fired; Lucius seemed to fight her down by shining more brightly.

Narcissa became glued to his side like a rightful queen. They never used the words dating or such quaint terms as boyfriend or girlfriend. That was for lesser mortals. They reserved public affection to held hands and properly observed courtesies. Bellatrix was older and more deeply entrenched. If she had any desire for Lucius herself, she refused to show it (chasing a boy two years younger was beneath her), but she respected his desirability. Lucius's perfect manners allowed him to handle her and come out of any debate sounding like the better man.

Where Bella bullied and punished, Lucius praised and rewarded. With Narcissa's help, he won over the younger Slytherins easily. The older ones took more time. Still he was becoming legend. He was Lucius.

Severus felt out of place in this battle of social giants. He retreated more deeply into his books, where he felt safe. Lucius occasionally pulled him out of his exile in the shadows to answer a homework question or demonstrate that the Curse Master was in his court. He kept Persephone far from Bellatrix, which was fairly easy, since Bellatrix had as much interest in first years as a dragon does puffskeins.

Persephone herself seemed to breeze through the common room without the slightest idea there was a war in progress. She was friendly to everyone, and everyone to her. Narcissa would occasionally condescend to play with her hair, mainly to demonstrate that the Silver Child was in her good graces. Lucius encouraged her to do homework with them. He found her genuinely charming.

She might have had an easy school career if her brother had not chosen to view her placement in Slytherin House as an act of treason. After a few unpleasant lunch incidents, Lucius made it clear that James was not allowed near the Slytherin table. Persephone had stuck out her tongue at her brother in a childish way which made Lucius laugh, James scowl, and Severus smile a little.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Severus wrote his own proposal detailing how he would run the Dueling Club for Persephone to hand in alongside her own. Sinistra waved it at him in the staff room. "This is probably going to get me in trouble with Dumbledore, but I don't care. I think I'm living vicariously through you right now."

He gave her a wary look. "How so?"

Sinistra chuckled and placed a conspiratorial finger to her darkly painted lips. "Besides, it's a good idea. The kids could use a little extra defense training. However...you might vary your routine a little bit. People are starting to talk."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "About?"

Sinistra took the chair beside him and gave him an assessing sideways glance. "Severus, I remember how close you two were, so I honestly don't care what you're doing in that office. But I think the governors may be less understanding."

His first impulse was to tell her to mind her own business, but since he might have been spared some pains if he had listened to her about Draco, he had to admit there was sense to it. "We're not doing anything inappropriate," he explained.

"Pity," Sinistra quipped. She gave him a doubtful pout, then schooled her features into a business expression. "I believe you, but only because I know how unbearably dull you are. Unfortunately perception counts for more than hard evidence in these cases. So you might want to be a little more Slytherin about your time with Ms. P."

Sinistra's warning proved almost unnecessary. Persephone's new clubs ate into her afternoons, and Draco's demand that she devote a minimum of two hours each day to her studies was one Severus had to support. The Dueling Club filled some of Severus's time, his lessons demanded longer essays and more complex potions which meant he spent more time on grading. Some days she could only give him a smile in the hallway, but she usually managed at least that.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Most of his interactions with her that second year had been smiles in the hall. She smiled at everyone, so he had no reason to think she had taken any real notice of him. Lucius had introduced them, but it had been during a string of other names. Stringy, shy Severus had merely nodded. He was experimenting with being effectively mute, only answering when necessary. It was a much quieter existence, and he rather liked it.

Lucius was the only one to express any concern over his reserve. Severus shrugged it off, though he was glad not to be entirely forgotten. He did take Lucius up on his offer to come to the Malfoy Manor whenever life at his own home got too dreary, which meant he spent most of his summer there.

Half of Slytherin House seemed to have received a similar invitation. Some days were quiet, but Lucius's father was away on business so a long string of planned and impromptu parties enlivened the summer months. Early in the holiday, a Quidditch centric event drew a large crowd to the Malfoys' expansive backyard. Severus made an appearance but soon retreated to the Malfoys' library. His first experience on a broom had been rather embarrassing, and he was worried they might ask him to play.

He could have lived in the Malfoys' library. He had never realized how poor his family was until he stepped inside the white walled Manor. Anyone would be impressed by the grandeur, but it was more telling to Severus how everything was clean, bright, and in good repair. Severus's father had a respectable but low level job at the Ministry removing curses from confiscated items. Maintaining a family in Lancaster in their narrow two story had stretched his modest income. His wife made potions at home, because he did not like people knowing she had to work to make ends meet. They had both endured an exceptionally poor childhood in Derby, and while they never wanted for necessities, money was a constant source of tension.

What Severus really loved about the library, other than it's double story of books, tall windows, multiple seating areas, and three marble and gild fireplaces, was the sense of peace he felt in it. When the rest of house got too loud, the library was always quiet. He was sitting there, thirteen and gaunt thin, quietly reading on the red sofa, facing a fireless fireplace (it was June) when the Silver Child had entered his sanctuary and flung herself on the far end of the couch with a dramatic sigh.

"Too hot," she announced. She slung an arm over the back, pulled her knees up on the cushion and curled to face him. "You're Severus, right?"

Severus nodded.

"I'm Persephone."

He nodded again.

She tipped her head back to admire the library. "This is very nice. There's too many people outside. I needed a little quiet. What are you reading?"

Severus thought she talked a lot for someone seeking quiet. "It's a book on vanishing theory," he said. "The nature of matter and where things go when they're no longer." He had had a few conversations like this before and found the more academic he made the book sound, the faster the questioner would end the conversation. Often with a comment like _You really read that stuff?_ or _Is that for a class? _or...

"That sounds interesting." Which was usually followed by the other student finding elsewhere to be, but Persephone merely laid her head on her arm and studied him.

Her gaze made him a little uncomfortable, but it seemed rude to ignore her. "It is actually. According to the author most of the universe is made up of empty space, essentially nothing. When things vanish, their material flows into the nothing, so there's no substantial disturbance to—"

"Are you a dark wizard?"

Severus felt more disappointed than irritated. Lucius never made it through his book summaries either, only a few of the teachers did, and this girl was much younger. "No."

"I didn't think so," she said. "James is a terrible a liar. He said you were half-vampire and knew more curses than all the seventh years combine."

Severus was a little surprised James Potter, or anyone for that matter, talked about him at all, much less made up such silly stories. "I'm not a vampire. I only know a lot about curses, because I'm studying to be an Auror."

"Oh, that makes sense," she said, giving him a smile. "I bet you'll make a good Auror. You're really smart." Severus was not sure if she was complimenting him or merely stating a fact. "It's too bad you're not a vampire. I'd really like to meet one." He blinked at her. "Tell me more about the nothing."

He had assumed she was not listening, so this return to the first subject surprised him. "It's a bit like everything, including us, is built of a frame work, rather than something truly solid. Even solids aren't genuinely solid."

She sat there, fluffy head resting on her arm, and listened with rapt attention as he talked about nothing.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Over twenty years later, between clubs and classes, they were still talking to each other about nothing, which was to say everything1. "Who is the younger teacher at the high table? The one with the dark hair. She's never at breakfast."

"That's Sinistra," answered Severus, involved in the barely appropriate activity of holding his, according to magical measures, sixteen-year-old student's hand. The witch in question would approve. "The astronomy teacher. I thought you might recognize her. She was a fifth year when you started."

"Slytherin?" Severus nodded, and Persephone frowned. "She's pretty."

"The boys seem to think so," Severus said, not sure what else to say.

"Do you think she's pretty?"

Severus gave his silver girl a curious look. "I suppose she's a handsome woman. Why?"

"I guess I'm wondering why she's not married," Persephone said, though it was clear enough she had more behind the question. As Dumbledore had said, she was a terrible actor.

"Divorced, I believe," Severus said with a shrug. "Married briefly to a Muggle if I remember. I try not to pry into my colleagues personal lives."

Persephone studied his fingers. "She smiles at you a lot. Laurel said you were..."

It took a few second for him to sort out what she meant. He was torn between annoyance and amusement. "Ms. Hedgebottom would do better to worry about her own romantic peril and leave her teachers to fend for themselves." He gave her hand a light squeeze. "I told you there was no one."

Chagrin played on her features. "I guess I was wondering about that. Anastasia said Trelawney—"

Severus winced. "Was there anyone your friends _didn't_ try to mate me with?"

Persephone blushed. Severus liked the pink hue on her pale cheeks, though the conversation still annoyed him. "I suppose it's a bit like me and Henrietta speculating about Flitwick and McGonagall," she chuckled.

"I can put that to rest at least. Professor Flitwick is a widower, still in love with his dead wife. Professor McGonagall has the propriety to keep her romantic history to herself."

"She's in love with Professor Dumbledore," Persephone said. It was not a question, but one of her insights.

"In a platonic sense, I think you're right," Severus admitted. "I'd appreciate you not spreading that theory around. Students seem to simplify relationships to their basest common factor."

"I'm not a gossip," Persephone insisted. "I just wanted to see if the gossip was true."

"Then ask me."

She shifted uncomfortably. "I'd understand," she said instead. "I mean you don't have to tell me, but we used to tell each other everything..."

That was an exaggeration. Severus bit back a sigh. His celibacy had not been a deliberate choice but a series of choices and lack of opportunities. He had left school determined to find his missing friend and allowed no distractions. Lucius had brought him to Lord Voldemort who had promised him new means of searching. During his time with the Death Eaters, Bellatrix had offered to deflower him, but she had actually used the term "deflower" and in the presence of her husband, which did more to cement his loathing of her than provide any temptation. He had never been certain if she was serious or simply mocking him, but both possibilities disgusted him. Lucius had calmly diffused the situation, rebuking his sister-in-law and lightly implying that Severus might simply be too much of a gentleman to brag about his romantic conquests. They both knew he didn't have any, but Severus was grateful for the double defense of his honor.

After Voldemort's defeat, Dumbledore had whisked him through trials and off to Hogwarts. He had been in the constant company of females who fell either into the category of student or colleague, both of which were off limits. During breaks, Lucius and Narcissa had made a few attempts to introduce him to eligible witches but few caught his interest. When they did, he rarely caught theirs. Greasy hair and a monochromatic wardrobe were not the sort of things intelligent, attractive women dreamed of, and they all shared the handicap of not being her.

Now she was sitting here, asking him to tell her things he would just as soon forget.

"There was no one," he repeated for a third time. "You?"

Her blush became fiercer. "I was in a painting for twenty years," she protested, but she chuckled as she did.

oOo

* * *

oOo

He could not hope to mark the moment he fell in love with her. It had happened gradually, somewhere around the one hundredth random hug, the one thousandth smile, or during the one millionth homework session. She was at the manor only about once a fortnight that summer, but she continued to visit Severus in the library. Sometimes reading over his shoulder. Sometimes dragging him out to participate in some amusement Lucius had concocted. She had an obvious crush on Lucius, but most of the younger girls did, so Severus thought little of it. Over the summer she gained the power to converse intelligently around the tall, blonde Malfoy without blushing.

This was helpful, because they were Severus's only real friends. Narcissa was not unkind to him, but he had no delusions that she considered him an equal. Also Narcissa had difficulty escaping her family during the summer holidays. They thought Mrs. Malfoy inadequate supervision for her son's string of visitors. She was only allowed to visit when Bella took a fancy to come as well. Severus never understood what made them think Bellatrix was a good chaperone, but no one asked him. When Narcissa was allowed to come, she looked unhappy. In July, they produced a third sister Andromeda, who favored Bellatrix in looks, but teased her colored hair into curls and seemed to blast through the Manor like a summer storm. She embodied everything Lucius hated about Hufflepuff and took great pleasure at mocking her host. Even going so far to imply Narcissa might be his half-sister, a gift to her mother from Malfoy senior. She had enough sense of self-preservation not to make this accusation in so many words, but she spent far too long drawing physical comparisons between the two, noting that neither of her own parents were fair, and asking Lucius about his father's business trips. Even Bellatrix was embarrassed, and Andromeda was banned from future visits to the Manor, which Severus suspected had been her goal.

He also suspected she was partially right about Narcissa's parentage, but he doubted Malfoy senior was involved. Narcissa favored Lucius's mother far more than his father, and the Malfoys were far from the only blondes in England. Severus however was wise enough to keep these thoughts to himself. He instead pointed out other sibling sets who lacked consistent coloring, and over a game of chess with a pensive Lucius, discussed the curious anomaly of squibs and Muggle-borns, comparing them to the albino and other surprising consequences of normal breeding. Lucius took some comfort in albinos.

The Black Family Civil War that marked Severus's third year was a messy three sided affair. As a seventh year, Bellatrix was on her way out but determined to leave a legend behind. Rodolphus was not around to keep her in check. Rabastan was nearly as bad as she was. Her boys bullied Muggle-borns, Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors, even teachers who caught Bella's displeasure. Everyone knew she was behind this frightening behavior, but no one could directly link her to it. Andromeda allied herself with Sirius. She retaliated by flaunting her relationship with Muggle-born Hufflepuff Ted Tonks, who was a pleasant, average looking fellow with an easy manner and not an ounce of ambition, and corrupting her cousin Sirius. Secretly, Severus thought Ted rather likeable, but he knew better than to say so. Narcissa was scandalized and embarrassed by both her sister's behavior. She fought back by demanding a high sense of propriety from the girls who followed her and the boys who courted her.

Lucius returned to school with the double honor of prefect and Quidditch Captain. His popularity and the demands on his time brought by O.W.L. year studies, meant they saw less of him. Narcissa kept their evening homework sessions in place. She allowed Persephone and Severus to continue to study with her, because Lucius liked his quirky little friends and they met her demands for focus and propriety. When Lucius decided to join them, he lovingly referred to them as his four year set, and Persephone and Severus in particular as his secret swots. When Lucius met with other girls in Hogsmeade, Narcissa swore she did not care, but Severus knew it was killing her. He felt he could do little more than lend his silent support and offer to read over her essays. Once or twice, he dared to give Lucius an annoyed glance, but he doubted anyone noticed. Persephone did her best to cheer Narcissa up. She distracted her with French lessons and eagerly submitted to the older girl's whims.

Unfortunately, Narcissa's form of battle by dignity was too subtle for Andromeda or Sirius Black to appreciate. They assumed Narcissa as a Slytherin was naturally on Bellatrix's side and shared her beliefs and fascination with the dark arts. Severus knew she did not give a damn about blood purity and hated dark magic, but they both feared Bella and loved Lucius, so they kept silent. Lucius had a religious faith in rank and blood purity. Bellatrix made it sound foul, but from Lucius it seemed enlightened. Despite his skepticism, the language of it crept into Severus's vocabulary and Narcissa stored it in her box of social tools. Persephone alone seemed immune. She stayed friends with Henrietta, showed everyone the same kindness, and gently reproved Lucius when he referred to Ted Tonks as a Mudblood. This behavior would have caused anyone else to get struck from the Malfoy's social list, but in Persephone, Lucius wrote it off as adorable naiveté. They were all victims of nature. Narcissa too pretty to be taken seriously, Severus too gawky, and Persephone too cute.

oOo

* * *

oOo

"Still no word," Dumbledore asked Severus. He was watching the Gryffindors practice Quidditch through his office window. "It's been a over month now."

"Almost two, if you count my little vacation," Severus supplied.

Dumbledore sighed. "The silence is too long." The look he gave Severus was almost apologetic. "I'll have to ask you—"

Severus waved off his concern. "I offered before."

"When will you go?"

"Hogsmeade weekend, I think."

"Very well." Dumbledore shuffled over to his desk and sank down in his high-backed chair with a sigh. "Unusually hot today." He hung his hat on Fawkes' perch.

Severus had not been enjoying the weather either. He preferred October to be brisk, but the Headmaster's fatigue seemed beyond simple discomfort. "Are you all right, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore smiled kindly at his concern. "There are benefits to being old, Severus, but I advise you stay young a little longer."

Severus's brow furrowed. "Are you in pain? I could make you something."

"No, no," the venerable wizard assured him. "Little aches. Poppy's given me a draught for them. Some sleep, and I'll be fine." Dumbledore took a drink from a gold goblet sitting on his desk. "Harry tells me Mr. Malfoy may have been dropping clues for us about Voldemort's location."

"Really?" Severus had already told the Headmaster about his own attempt to question his prefect. "Potter isn't sure?"

"I think you schooled your pupil a little too well." Albus Dumbledore gave him a sly look from under his bushy eyebrows. "Are you sure it was wise to teach him Occlumency?"

Severus winced. Dumbledore had figured him out. He sank into the chair opposite the desk. "In retrospect, yes. Frustrating, now, but he needed protection. Voldemort had his father."

"Ah, so I can assume you also schooled Gregory, Vincent, Theodore Nott, and Ms. Parkinson?" Severus winced again. Dumbledore also had the power to reduce him to student without a moment's notice. The Headmaster shook his head. "We all have our favorites, Severus, but showing favoritism is a risky business for a teacher."

"I thought Draco in greater danger...and he has a natural talent for such things. Besides, where he leads the others follow." He was justifying. They both knew it. He also knew he was right.

Dumbledore's lip twitched. "Well, he certainly has more to hide. Teaching has allowed me a fresh perspective on my students. I didn't believe Aurora at first, but I'm convinced now that he does indeed fancy Ms. Granger. I thought he and Harry might come to blows over it in class but—"

"Potter's girl?" Severus echoed skeptically, not sure how he could have missed something like that, though honestly he never had been good at keeping up with social gossip. He was not entirely sure Hermione Granger had ever been romantically involved with anyone, but she and Weasley seemed to belong to Potter's set.

Under his whiskers, Dumbledore's lip twisted. "Aurora has the most delightful story about how he managed to secure a seat by her and away from his friends in Astronomy."

"Troubling," Severus said. Not because of the pairing. He could care less who Draco's girl of the month might be. But he knew Lucius would take great exception to this particular girl. He could also think of several reasons why Draco might be courting Ms. Granger's good graces that were not the least bit amorous. But he doubted any of them would sit well with Lord Voldemort. "I'll need a story. I'll have to answer for him."

oOo

* * *

oOo

At thirteen, Severus Snape was so horribly out of step with the other students in his year that he began to suspect he was different on some biological level. They all seemed to be caught up in their raging hormones while he was too busy contemplating the Arithmancy aspects of Potion making to try to fathom the change in his classmates. Girls he had thought were intelligent turned into giggling simpletons. The boys' conversations made him constantly uncomfortable.

Even so, it was the happiest Severus had ever been. He had a real friend now. He was grateful for Lucius's patronage and Narcissa's tolerance, but they were complicated people. Persephone was refreshingly simple. She sought his company without agenda. Found him and his books fascinating and would drag out his opinion if he did not volunteer it. There was no price for her kindness. She scolded anyone who spoke ill of him. He was sure this cost her some popularity, but she was indifferent to that.

After the first year, her novelty had worn off for most students. Her condition made her magic unreliable. Early in her school career an accident in Charms caused her to be restricted from trying any magic that involved human targets. To compensate she focused on the theory and came to share Severus's fascination with obscure and arcane forms of magic. She was not as quick to learn as he was, but at least when he made a joke she understood.

There was a price for this joy. Their friendship strained Persephone's already rocky relationship with her brother. James had made seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, which had the unfortunate side effect of making him _cool_. Severus was the exact opposite of cool, and it grated James to see his sister so openly friendly with him. James took this out on both of them. Black added fresh elements of cruelty to his childish insults. Since Black was handsome and James was cool, most of the girls in their year followed suit. Severus's legend as a dark wizard grew to include all sorts of midnight rituals and disturbing hygiene habits. Everything from his mild acne to awkward walk seemed to be a source of amusement.

He ignored them as best he could, found safety and solace with his few Slytherin friends, and got in the habit of talking to his teachers after class both from intellectual hunger and to stay out of the halls. The common room was safe; the Great Hall was safe; classrooms were safe as long as the teacher was there; the halls were the danger zone. Bellatrix's group was still willing to tolerate if not include him, so he found it useful to tag along with them when they were available.

This earned him extra glares from Andromeda and Sirius, but none of the Gryffindors wanted to get on Bella's list. He wished he could hang out with Lucius, but while Lucius did not mind him, his cloud of Quidditch players and pretty girls was far too cool to allow for admission or easy camouflage. Potter did make the mistake once of hassling him while Lucius was in the hall. Lucius had towered over him, humiliated James with a perfectly mannered speech, and somehow turned the whole thing into a matter of Quidditch, which allowed Severus not to be stuck in the middle of it.

Severus was not James' and Sirius's only target. They would bully their own friends if Lupin or Pettigrew were too dissenting, though they rarely were. Severus wished he was better at defending Persephone, but as siblings she and James could fling off taunts with frightening and brutal rapidity. If Severus moved to interfere, she would grab his arm and drag him away, preferring to cry or rant about her brother privately than risk either boy getting hurt in a fight. Sirius scared her a little. Black would taunt him during these retreats. "You're lucky to have hissy to protect you." Safely out of earshot, Severus would agree with him.

Persephone was a shameless tattle tale. She reported the worst of James behavior in her letters home, ratted on him to teachers, and it was useful for her to give James little to report in return. They plotted retaliations, sometimes with Narcissa's help, but the plotting was enough. They rarely acted on any of them. It was more fun to speculate, to imagine reactions without real consequences.

Still the ridiculousness of it all grated on Severus, and he sometimes boiled over. One day in Transfiguration, James had started tugging on Lily Evans' braids whenever McGonagall's back was turned. Lily was one of the few unimpressed by Potter's bluster, and Severus respected her for it. The third time she hissed at James to "Cut it out!" there had been a glimmer of frustrated tears building. When James merely grinned and reached again for the red roped of hair, Severus sent a Stinging Hex at his hand. James had yelped. "Ten points from Slytherin." McGonagall's sharp eyes had caught the angle of his wand and James accusing stare. When James smirked, she added, "And five from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter."

Severus hated losing points, but Lily had smiled at him and mouthed "thank you". This made it seem worthwhile.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Draco Malfoy at age twelve had the same sort of delicate features Severus would years later notice in Charles Bulstrode. He had slunk into Severus office, started helping him put vials away as an excuse to linger. Severus had asked the boy how his first Quidditch practice had gone only to get a less than enthusiastic answer. "It was great." The boy had shrugged, delicate fingers twisting the vials so the labels all faced the same direction. Severus had always found his fastidiousness rather endearing. "Professor, where do Mudbloods come from anyway?"

"Language," Severus reproved him. He wished he could say more, but Dumbledore was convinced that Lord Voldemort would return, which meant Severus had to keep playing a role.

"Fine," Draco sniffed. "Muggle-borns then. Why do they exist?"

"It's still a bit of mystery," Severus admitted. He did not believe in placating children with simple answers. "There are a few competing theories. Magic seems to pass through bloodlines, so it's likely most Muggle-borns have a wizarding ancestor in their genealogy. However that doesn't explain why it lays dormant for generations. Another theory is Mass Magical Equilibrium, which boils down to the powers needing to keep a certain number of wizards in existence at all times, so when wizarding lines die out, new ones come into being. There's Will Theory, which implies that Muggles can become wizards by wanting to badly enough, but that doesn't explain how we can detect magical births." Severus glanced at the boy, who still seemed to be listening and frowning in deep thought.

Draco finished turning the labels to suit him. He walked over to the chair facing Severus's desk, crossed his arms on the back of it, and propped his chin on his arms with a petulant expression. "I wish _she_ didn't exist."

"Who are we wishing away?"

"That brat Granger," Draco said dropping his arms. "She said I had to buy my way onto the team."

"Nonsense," Severus reassured him. "I heard you did quite well at try outs. Marcus is happy to have you."

"They're happy to have new brooms," Draco sulked. Severus bit back a sigh. The boy liked to mimic his father's confidence, but he was too aware of his own shortcomings. The problem was not Miss Granger's parentage, but that she saw them too.

oOo

* * *

oOo

He bought Persephone every practical item she would list for him. Hand delivered a package of delicates, so her enthusiastic friends would not open the box in the Great Hall. Books, bags, ink, quills, toiletries, a hair brush, a homework planner. "I feel bad that you're spending money on me," she said again.

"It's all right," he assured her. "I make a Head's salary, room and board are provided. I haven't bothered trying to maintain a second residence, so aside from a few vacations and necessities, the gold just collects dust in my vault."

She gave him a sly smile. "Are you trying to tell me you're rich?"

"Comfortable." He was not bragging precisely, but he did want her to know he could provide for her. She was not greedy, but she was practical.

"Maybe I should marry you for your money," she said playfully, skipping to their bench. She pulled her legs up on the seat, but realizing this left him no room, smiled awkwardly and moved to a more ladylike position.

He looked away, until she had time to arrange her robes. Propriety demanded he not linger over a flash of bare knees or glimmer of thigh. He joked to fill the pause. "I never fancied you a gold digger."

"Well, you know what they say about Slytherin girls. Hm, I'd still have to wait a year, wouldn't I? At least 'til my birthday, maybe this summer. Dumbledore says I'm still technically underage." She rolled her eyes, apparently as annoyed by this inconvenience as he was. She summoned him with an outstretched hand. He surrendered his own and sat beside her. "Maybe I should take an Aging potion," she said and traced a circle on his palm with her middle finger.

Severus clenched his hand into a fist to stop her. His fragile resolve was too close to cracking. "I don't think that's wise," he managed. "They're too imprecise." She looked down, disappointed; silver lashes hiding her eyes.

A few drops might not hurt her, but he did not trust himself to give her unbiased advice on this subject. "Don't you think you ought to take your N.E.W.T.s before you take a husband?" he said, returning to the joke that he secretly hoped was not entirely a joke.

She sighed and gave him a wane smile. "That would be more practical wouldn't it?"

He bit back his own sigh and nodded. "You may find you want a career of your own."

She whimpered for comic effect. "Mama didn't work."

"Your mother had health problems, but she was also a Ravenclaw. She kept herself useful." Severus had had few occasions to meet Persephone's mother, but their scattered interactions left him with a painful respect for her. The last time he had found her... "She volunteered at St. Mungo's during the war."

"Bother the war," Persephone groused. "I'd quit school today if it was safe. I'd go after Voldemort myself if I thought it would do any good. Would it?"

He winced as she spoke the name. "Persephone, please," he pleaded. "Don't say his name."

"Why?" she asked openly, curiously. Her lips were parted, and her eyes searched his. It would be so easy to close the distance, but the memory of her mother reminded him how he failed her. He pulled away, looked away, stiffened his back. "Draco said there's no spell on it."

Severus rubbed his burning left forearm with his right hand and focused his Occlumency. "There's no spell on the name, but on this...the name triggers something." He swallowed. "The pain is not unbearable, but it's sharp. The Dark Lord demands respect, particularly from his Death Eaters. He punishes those who fail to enforce it."

She let out a pained, exasperated breath. "Can't you get rid of it?"

Severus shook his head. "I haven't tried cutting my arm off, but shy of that...I have some hope it will fade when he dies. It was barely visible after his curse rebounded from your nephew. It came back when he did."

"Oh Severus, Je suis stupide! I told the students there was no reason not to say it!" She was working herself towards tears again. "I didn't know it hurt you. I can tell them to stop."

He shushed her. "I'd rather you didn't explain. Most of the students are ignorant that I bear the mark, and I would prefer to keep it that way. Besides I can bear a little pain for my sins."

She gave him a distressed look. "Don't talk like that! You're a good person. The best person. You only joined him to look for me. Laurel told me how many times you've saved Harry. Please stop punishing yourself!"

Severus grimaced. Guilt trickling across his skin. She had always thought too highly of him, too highly of everyone, but he felt this particular illusion was bordering on a lie. "I'm not a good person." He felt heavy and leaned forward to rest his forearms on his knees. This allowed him not to look at her. "What happened to James and Lily...that was my fault."

He heard her take in a sharp breath. "Did you kill them?"

"No," Severus said, glad he had nothing like that to confess. "But I gave the Dark Lord information that would lead him to target them. I didn't realize how the information would be interpreted, but I should have realized it was dangerous. I-"

"You didn't kill them," Persephone said firmly. "Did you kill anyone?"

"Not directly," he said. He had thought this would be the worst part of the confession, but he felt calmer now. "I brewed potions, poisons. I did research. I spied... I think Lucius kept me from the worst of it, but what I did... I'm still responsible. I caused death as certainly as if I had fired a killing curse from my own wand."

The sentence hung in the air for a long moment before she asked, "Are you still with them?"

"No!" Severus said emphatically, though he kept his voice low. "Merlin, no. When I realized what was going to happen to Lily and James, I warned them. I went to Dumbledore, he was in charge of the resistance, the Order of the Phoenix. I confessed everything, and since then..." He realized these were the sort of secrets he might not ought to be spilling, but he did not care. It was one thing for her to see his worst, but he could not stand her thinking him worse than he was. "I've been his spy. He kept me at Hogwarts to keep me close, so I could protect Harry for you. When the Dark Lord came back, I had to-"

"Pretend?"

"Pretend," he confirmed. "But I have no loyalty to the Dark Lord."

"I wish you could tell Draco," she said. "He's too afraid to stand against him openly. But he might like the idea of being a spy if you coached him."

Severus shook his head. "Draco has more to lose than I did." He gave her a piteous look. This was the real reason any talk of marriage between them must remain a joke. He had something to lose now. "It's too dangerous."

oOo

* * *

oOo

A few days after his intervention in Transfiguration, Lily Evans had found him sitting with a book in a remote stairwell. "Hey, Severus, you mind if I sit here."

He peaked out from behind his lank hair, shook his head, and she sat down. She was quiet at first. He toyed with trying to read again, but she took a deep breath, which warned him she had something to say. "Is it true what they say? About your father?" He blinked at her. He had no idea anyone said anything about his father. "Does he..." She dropped her voice. "...beat you?"

Severus was surprised by the question. He scowled while he considered it and shook his head. His father was not gentle with him, but the few light knocks he had received were hardly something he would categorize as beatings. Evans was looking at him with concern in her green eyes, so he explained more directly. "In a good mood, he'll call me Dunderhead, but he doesn't beat me."

This seemed to relieve some of her worry though she still looked bothered by it. "You're not a dunderhead. I think James only picks on you cause you're smarter than him." Severus twitched half a smile at her. "Does he teach you dark magic? Your dad?"

"He's a curse breaker. Doesn't really teach me anything."

Lily smiled. "So is anything they say about you true?"

Severus shrugged. He had no idea what people said about him. "I'm half-vampire."

"REALLY?" Lily's eyes went wide, then narrowed as she realized he was teasing her. She laughed. "You're all right, Snape." She shook her head and started to stand up. "Don't let Potter get to you. He's almost as bad as Lucius Malfoy."

His half-smile died. "What's wrong with Lucius?" he asked defensively. He had snarled a bit, and Evans seemed taken aback by that.

"He's cruel," she said simply. "Everyone ignores it because he's good looking, but I see it." She shuddered, and all Severus could do was stare at her. "He gives me the creeps."

Severus did have to admit he thought Lucius was being cruel to Narcissa. Perhaps not intentionally, but in the middle of the war, he had left her undefended. Narcissa was the model of loyalty and grace under pressure. She quietly reminded Lucius of homework assignments, club meetings, prefect duties. She knew his schedule as well as her own, and as far as Severus could tell better than Lucius did. He had gotten a little full of himself, lost in his own popularity, unaware how Narcissa kept saving him from an absentmindedness born of distraction. He would thank her sometimes, politely, distractedly, or gallantly declare "whatever would I do without you", only to make plans with a dark eyed Ravenclaw.

Persephone encouraged her to arrange a Slytherin Girls outing for the last Hogsmeade weekend, a distraction from Ravenclaws and boys in general. Severus realized this would leave him free and not having anyone else to consult on the matter, offered for consideration his own bold plan. "I was—I was thinking about asking Lily Evans to meet me," he told them in a quietly, searchingly. He needed to know if there was any point in letting that interest take root. Pretty, popular Lily seemed as untouchable as Narcissa, except Lily had developed the habit of giving him a friendly smile, much to Potter's annoyance.

Narcissa shook her head in a frightened, warning way. "No, Severus."

Persephone on the other hand was taken with the idea. "Oh! You should, mon ami astucieux." She had fallen in love with French. "Ce serait romantique."2 Severus was simultaneous heartened and disheartened by her encouragement.

Lucius had joined them then, slipping onto the leather couch beside a suddenly truculent Narcissa. "Quel est romantique?"

"Severus is going to ask out Lily Evans," Persephone announced as though this was a done deal. "She's the pretty redhead in his class from Gryffindor."

Severus felt himself flush. He had not meant to bring Lily to Lucius's attention. "I was only thinking about it," he muttered, under Lucius's disapproving gaze.

"You can do better, Severus," Lucius said darkly. "Don't forget you're pure-blood."

"James is pure-blood," said Persephone dismissively. "He's going to marry her. But she's way too good for him. Severus could rescue her. Like a prince."

Lucius lip curled with a sneer. "You're brother's a blood traitor, Sephi. He may fancy a Mudblood, unless he grows up, but I won't see Severus wasted on one. Pretty faces fade. Blood stays strong." He was speaking in his authoritative voice. The one that made him sound wise beyond his years. Narcissa looked uncomfortable.

Severus decided to abandon his idea. Not because he agreed with Lucius, but because he could see how strongly he felt about this. There was no sense dragging Evans into the middle of the Black War. She would become an instant target. "She wouldn't go with me anyway," said Severus, trying to end the conversation before Persephone could start fussing. "Pretty girls don't want to be seen with social lepers."

Lucius shot him a look that was a mixture of pity and irritation. "Severus, you are an absolute Bundimun at times."

Narcissa steered the conversation back to homework. The next morning she tossed him a tube of bubotuber pus. "You may feel less like a leper if you get rid of the spots."

It smelled awful and did little for the general oiliness of his complexion, but it did help clear up his acne.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Twenty years later he still felt a lingering devotion to Narcissa. He regretted that he could not share the news of Persephone's return with her or reassure her about her son. Draco's attempt to run away and subsequent behavior must have had her going spare. However her position was nearly as precarious as his own, and correspondence between them would surely be read by others. He wrote instead to Persephone.

Infatuation found fate in the most mundane details. They both preferred prose over poetry. Severus did not like animals, and animals did not like her. Neither of them had been given middle names. Severus, like his parents, had never really seen the point in middle names, but they made a game out of initials and giving names to each other. After a long debate, she had settled on the name Oliver, and he called her Elizabeth. An orphan boy and a queen.

She had taken to identifying her mysterious package sender as Oliver to her friends, so he signed that name to further hide his initials. When he ran out of practical packages to send, letters seemed a logical step. He told himself at first it was to support this illusion about Canada. Her friends had expressed a curiosity about him. He researched Shenk Saundustee Academy, learned its details to better support the facade, but he needed something to give a sense of reality to this invented classmate. Somehow it seemed natural to borrow from his own seventh year. He hid their friends under code names, provided more of the minutia she craved, and told her all the things he had wanted so badly to tell her back then.

_Dear Persephone,_

_ The weather lingers warm, but I feel cold. I miss you. I feel like you took part of me with you, and I won't be whole until I see you again._ _I wonder if you even think about me. Ruth has stopped asking about you. She did at first, but there was nothing I could tell her. I think John blames me for your leaving. He's said as much on more than one occasion. I wish you could see the change that's come over him. He's become so serious._

_ Zaccharias has been sitting with me at lunch. He still brings his toad to the table. He's taught it to dance. At least that's what he calls it. It's sort of a shuffle, hop, shuffle. Is there anything more tedious than a toad? Shuffle, hop, shuffle, hop, croak. You would have loved it._

_ My mother offered to buy me a cat. I suppose she forgot my allergies. Or maybe she remembered them. She has a unique sense of humor._

_ We're experimenting in Potions this year. Last year, I think I would have really looked forward to it. Now, I am restless. I'll try to focus. Mary is restless too. She played a trick on old Professor Solomon. He was boring us all with a story about someone he knows from the International Association of Quidditch, at least Mary and I were bored by it. She started rolling sneezewort into tiny pellets and flicking them up towards the ceiling. It was just enough to tickle the nose of a few victims. A sniffle, a snuff. Flick, flick, flick. She scattered the angle, so it affected different students in different parts of the room, but it had a cumulative effect. Flick, flick, flick, sniffle, sneeze, achoo, achoo. The room was soon filled with so many sniffles and blows that Solomon had to stop. Mary had spared me, but I faked a sneeze to avoid suspicion. She did the same. She got away with it of course. Solomon never suspects her of anything._

_ My father keeps asking what I plan to do with myself. I really don't know. I used to know. Maybe that's the part of me you took. The part that knows what to do. Are you reading anything now? I'm reading _Hard Times_. You said you liked it. I'm not sure I will. I'm stuck in school all day, and for recreation you have me reading a book about people stuck in school all day._

_ They give us loads of homework. I have to read that as well, so it slows my progress on the novel. I have no one to do homework with now. I get everything done more quickly, but I think I remember less of it. Maybe because I'm not checking over everyone's papers. If you come back I'll never complain about reading over yours again. Hell, I'll do your homework for you. I'm not above a bribe at this point. I hope you're well and happy. I imagine you are. I have to._

_ I miss you. Maybe I should get that cat. A hairless one._

_Love,_

_Oliver_

When he finished, the whole thing seemed silly to him, but it did to support the illusion of another life. He reread it to make sure nothing in the text would give him away as the writer or participant. He almost wadded it up for being too ridiculous and sentimental but decided that would mean having to draft a fresh letter. This would have to do.

oOo

* * *

**End Notes:**

1. Yes, that's a Deathly Hallows reference.

2. Some of my characters know French, but I don't. Corrections welcome.

**Next Chapter: **A dismal Christmas, Snape's first trip to Dumbledore's office, spying, and a drink with Lucius.


	4. The Summer

**Severus Snape and the Last Year**

By Carla Lute

**Notes: **If you want to go with the zippered, semi-chronological reading of the Last Year levels, you would read Level 3.4 right after Level 3.3: Persephone (yes, a double helping of Snape).

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on the Harry Potter novels written by J.K. Rowling. All characters created by J.K. Rowling are owned by J.K. Rowling. The few characters created by me (i.e. Persephone, Hotchet, Kagome…) belong to me, but are available for use in other fics as long as I get credited as their creator. None of us are making any money off this and no infringement is intended.

* * *

oOo

**Level 3.4: The Summer**

His thirteenth Christmas had been a dismal affair. Persephone had gone home to her parents, so he had gone home to his. His mother restricted her decorating to a single two-foot tree, perched on a side table and decorated with popcorn and a few sprigs of holly. Severus used a little of his own pocket money to buy some fairy lights for it.

He tried to tell his parents about his new friend, but when his father found out she was a girl, he gave Severus a brief and mortifying lecture about the facts of life. Severus tried telling his mother that she was just a friend, and he was not interested in sex in general. His mother gave him a disbelieving look and said it was normal for boys his age.

"I'm not normal!" he protested and fled to the privacy of his room to write a complaining letter to Lucius about his parents' embarrassing assumptions.

His parents gave him a Galleon on Christmas morning, which Severus did not dislike but found a little impersonal. Narcissa sent him a Christmas card as did Lily Evans (he found out later she had sent them to the whole class). Lucius sent him a book bound in a fake cover. The outside wrapping promised _A Detailed History of the Goblin Wars_, but later in his room, he discover the book was instead a far more detailed exposition on the facts of life with moving illustrations. There was a note from Lucius explaining that his father had given it to him on his thirteenth birthday, and it might explain things better than Severus's father had done.

Severus shoved the book into the dark recesses of his trunk. He was tempted to burn it but worried it might hold some warped sentimental value and Lucius was expecting it back. Persephone seemed to have forgotten him.

He spent the rest of his holiday sulking over how no one understood him, losing himself in _The Dark Arts Unraveled,_ which was a caustically funny account of a complex case by a female Auror, and trying not to think about sex.

Persephone met him on the train with an exciting story about how her grandparents had taken them to Godric's Hollow for Christmas and Edinburgh for Hogmanay. He had trouble catching her excitement, which reminded her to produce a belated Christmas present. She had gotten him a large, colorful box full of Muggle sweets. He had little fondness for candy, but he did appreciate the effort. "At least it's not a book."

Her face fell. When he asked why, she admitted to having got him a book for his birthday. If there needed to be a moment when he fell in love with her that might have been a good one, but he was too busy backpedaling, trying to explain his comment without explaining Lucius's book, and making room for her friend Henrietta, who wanted to tell Persephone about her holiday. Bernard Avery had joined them. He was a year older and almost as unpopular as Severus himself. Later Severus thought it was good he was there, since Persephone's brother had dropped by to bother them. Avery had a short temper.

The students returned to the drafty castle halls with a fresh batch of viruses. Severus spent the next month fighting an irritatingly persistent cold, which earned him the nickname of Snivellus. A more intense flu like illness put several people in the hospital wing while Madam Pomfrey tried to figure it out. Persephone spent a week there. When she got out, she apologized for missing Severus's birthday and gave him a copy of _Oliver Twist_. He would have liked to say something charming and appropriately grateful, but a particularly loud, gooey sneeze had ruined the moment.

Eventually he figured out he was allergic to his roommate's new kitten. Since cats were considered par for the course at Hogwarts, he appealed to Madam Pomfrey and was given a draught, which worked well enough if he remembered to take it. The nickname was not so easily remedied.

He spent a month wrestling with how to return Lucius's book without insulting him. He finally decided that he could pretend to have read it and then offer it's return. This seemed the simplest plan. He took it to Lucius's dorm still wrapped in its false cover and tried to sound casual as he asked Lucius if he wanted the book back since he was done with it. Lucius had laughed. "I think you need it more than I do."

Severus returned to his room, defeated, to find the accursed kitten shedding all over his bed sheets. Severus threw the book at it to chase it off. He missed, but the kitten yowled. It's owner, one of the Macmillans, had scrambled over to rescue it and yell at Severus, when he noticed the illustration the book had fallen open to. "Bloody hell, Snape! What is that?"

Severus was frozen and mute with mortification, but his dorm mates pounced on the book. Macmillan and the other Slytherin third years were fascinated by it. Their reaction confused him. He had expected fresh taunts and ridicule, but the names they called him seemed to ring with admiration. One of them whistled. "Always wondered why you read so much."

"It's not—" he began helplessly, but there seemed to be no way to explain without betraying Lucius. He was not sure it would do him any good even if he did. The other boys were experts at twisting everything he said, and even he could imagine all sort of inventively unpleasant taunts if he admitted the striking, blonde Slytherin had sent it to him as a Christmas present.

"Hey, Sev, can we borrow this?"

"Keep it," he groaned, as he closed his bed curtains and hid his burning face under the pillow.

The book made its way around the Slytherin boys dormitory for the next week or so. Severus did his best to ignore it and hope it would go away. To his relief, the taunts he expected did not come, though the older boys developed the annoying habit of stealing his books, flipping through them, and shortly after, returning them with a look of disappointment. He feigned ignorance when Persephone asked why they kept doing it.

Narcissa made a single appeal for him, since this was interrupting her homework sessions. "Bella, please ask them to leave Severus alone." This peaked Bella's interest enough for her to briefly investigate by walking across the common room and asking Rabastan. Her loud laughter forced Severus to hide behind his open textbook.

Gossip spread like wildfire through the dry minds of Hogwarts students. Lily gave him a round eyed stare instead of her usual smile the next morning, and Severus knew his reputation had grown to Curse Master and Pervert. He did his best to be invisible, but everyone seemed to be staring at him. He understood the reaction of the girls who skittered away from him, regretting only that he could not explain. Other reactions made less sense. Sirius actually gave him a grin and a thumbs up, but James Potter was glaring at him with new levels of loathing. Mousy little Pettigrew squeaked "pervert" at him when he thought he could get away with it. Potter's other friend, who always looked ill, looked ill in Severus direction. His fellow Slytherins resurrected his "Curse Master" title in a jovial way. The Ravenclaws asked him to join study groups. The Hufflepuffs left him mercifully alone.

He was relieved to see Persephone after class, even though her friend Henrietta was in tow. As usual Hen skittered off when she saw him, but Persephone smiled at him. Maybe it was then. He was debating whether to ask her if she wanted to go to the library or the common room when James stuck his wand in his face. "I _told _you to stay away from my sister!"

Severus stared at James in disbelief. Persephone merely reached her hand up and batted the wand away. "Cut it out, James."

"Aw," Sirius said in a mocking voice. "Hissy's got a boyfriend."

"Don't be stupid!" Persephone protested. "He's not my boyfriend!"

James squinted and brought his wand back up to point at Severus. "Hands off, pervert!"

Severus felt his brows draw together at the absurdity of it. Persephone bubbled up a laugh. "Severus? A pervert?"

"Ask him about his books!"

Persephone cocked her head and gave Severus a questioning look. He shrugged helplessly. "You've gone balmy," she told her brother. She grabbed Severus's arm to drag him away, but instead of letting them go, James hit Severus with a Leg-locker Curse that made him fall against Persephone. She managed to stay upright, but Severus did not. He felt a sting of pain as his arm impacted with the ground but rolled onto his back. While Persephone was yelling at her brother, Severus pulled his wand out. He was in the middle of his own curse, when the wand flew from his hand.

"Quite enough of that," Professor Slughorn puffed as he came upon the scene. He released Severus's legs and pulled him to his feet. Severus instinctively tried to pull his arm away, but Slughorn held fast. "Come along, Curse Master. You too, Potter." Severus caught the flash of Persephone's silver wand and her sympathetic grimace as Slughorn dragged him away.

Slughorn rarely deducted points, but he did like to lecture. He seated the two boys in his office and went into a long spiel about inter-house cooperation. Severus could never suss out how, but Slughorn seemed to think their quarrel was Quidditch related. Neither boy corrected him. He sent James along first and kept Severus for a while to commend him on his potions talents, tell him not to worry about his broom work, and that he was welcome to come to him with any problem. Severus left the office far more confused than when he had come in but relieved he had not lost any points.

Persephone had a further argument with James that he was not privy to, which seemed to settle the matter in the short term. She came back to the common room, pronouncing that James was an incurable arse, but refusing to expound on why. Severus surrendered his completely innocent books on theory for her inspection. Things were quiet for the next few days, until Professor Slughorn pulled him out of Charms.

The uninspired Avery had taken_ the Goblin Wars_ to class with him, and the false cover did not prevent Professor McGonagall from seeing the illustrations. When asked where he had gotten it, he told the teachers it was Snape's book and Severus had been showing it to all the Slytherin boys. Slughorn had tried once again to be understanding without stopping a moment to listen. He offered Snape candy from a dish, tried to explain that his curiosity was perfectly natural but certain materials were not appropriate for the school setting, and that perhaps it might be beneficial for them to have a conference with his parents. After three unsuccessful attempts to politely get Slughorn to let him speak, Severus had yelled, with a colorful string of profanity that it was not his book.

Slughorn stopped talking then, considered Severus for a long, terrible moment, where the awkward teenager felt both horribly ashamed and rather proud of himself and stared back defiantly, then muttered, "I'm too close to retirement to deal with this," and called up the floo to the Headmaster's office.

Slughorn had marched the now trembling Severus up to the Headmaster's office, deposited him before Dumbledore's desk, and handed him the book. "I give up. See what you can do with him."

When they were alone, Dumbledore had quietly opened the book and gave it a brief inspection, while Severus's felt his face grow hot and tried unsuccessfully to sink through the floor. "Very instructive," he said and set the closed book down on his desk. "Now, what seems to be the trouble?"

Severus had been certain this was leading up to expulsion, so he remained mute for several minutes, twitchy as a caged rabbit. Dumbledore simply stared at him kindly and waited, his ancient, elegant hands folded in attention. With some effort at first, then with growing ease, Severus spilled the whole story. The Headmaster continued to smile kindly but did not laugh at him. "And what sort of books do you normally read?"

Heartened Severus had launched into the list while Dumbledore listened, bushy eyebrow quirked in pleasant surprise. When he came to Persephone's gift of _Oliver Twist_, the Headmaster did interrupt. "Ah, Charles Dickens, a rather entertaining fellow."

"Did you know him, Professor?" asked curious and calmed Severus.

"Not well," Dumbledore admitted. "I was able to attend one of his dramatic readings and afterwards was compelled to shake his hand. No doubt the man was a Muggle, but the magic he could perform with words." The Headmaster sighed contently.

"How can Muggles perform magic?" Confused Severus.

"Prose, my boy, prose. The music of print." Dumbledore waved a hand at his own bookshelves and summoned a red volume with gold stenciling to his waiting palm. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to propose that we trade books. Unless you want to keep—?" Severus shook his head vigorously. "Very well, you may keep this as long as you like. I've read it three times already."

Severus took the red volume in his pale, thin fingers. _Magica Amoris (The Magic of Love). _ He gave the Headmaster a skeptical look.

"Don't worry, you may have Mr. Malfoy's book back after you master this one." That was not what worried Severus, and it showed clearly on his face. The Headmaster chuckled, then forced his own expression to be more serious. "Now, Severus, I understand your frustration with Professor Slughorn, but I can not tolerate students showing such blatant disrespect to their teachers."

"I'm sorry, sir," Severus mumbled.

"I suggest you apologize to Professor Slughorn, and two weeks detention seems reasonable."

Severus nodded meekly. His two weeks detention with Slughorn was mainly spent cleaning and organizing the potions stores which was not so bad. He told Lucius and the other Slytherin boys that the other book had been confiscated. The history buffs were disappointed but unsurprised. Lucius was annoyed. "He had no right to take your book."

Severus had shrugged, reluctant to tell Lucius how happy he was to be rid of the thing. He waited until his detentions were over before attempting, _Magica Amoris, _which turned out to be a theory book. In Latin, nonetheless, which made progress slow. The other boys kept snatching and returning it with disappointed faces. This forced him to hide it away in his trunk for the rest of term.

oOo

* * *

oOo

"Form, Victoria. Less flourish."

The small, dark witch repeated the wand movement with less flourish. She took direction exceedingly well. Severus walked down the rows of students in the Great Hall. There were nearly sixty of them, only third, fourth, and fifth years.

The tables had been cleared out. Severus had not bothered with a stage; the raised platform for the high table was sufficient for demonstrations. He had learned from Lockhart's disaster that pitting so many pairs against each other simultaneously was far more messy than instructive. Instead he lined them and ran them through drills, first only the motions without magic. One half performing a spell, the other it's counter or a block. "Sloppy work, Macmillan. Watch Yaxley." There was always a few Macmillans at Hogwarts. This one was a younger sister to the Hufflepuff prefect.

Flitwick was observing from a stool set to one side of the raised platform. Snape suspected Dumbledore had asked him to keep at eye on them, but as Flitwick was a former dueling champion, he had no problem with his colleague giving a pointer or two. "Twice more," said Severus, watching the row for anyone who was not getting the basic motion. "Very well. Blockers, _Protego_. Attackers, _Confundo_." He stepped onto the platform and theoretically out of the line of fire. "Go."

The Great Hall was filled with the sound of spells and the air distorted with the traces of magic. Some of the students staggered or looked about befuddled. Severus stalked down the line, sent the losers to the far end of the hall to recover and allowed the standing students to pair up again. "Again!" The same shouts and shimmers, clear out a few more. "Again!"

When they were down to the last eight standing, he stopped them to cast a few charms to clear the heads of those who were not clearing on their own, but no one seemed to need Pomfrey. "Pair up for free form duels." The others backed up to watch, whispering and giggling. Most of the remaining eight were fifth years, a tall fourth year boy, and petite little Victoria Dey. Severus had to swallowed down an amused smile as the fifth years dashed to avoid being her partner. This was the third session of the Dueling Club, and they had already made the mistake of thinking the third year would be an easy target.

Wherever Mudada's country was, it seemed to have no restriction on underaged magic, and Dey had schooled his daughter well on curses. Severus reminded them of the rules. "The object of the duels is to disarm or incapacitate your component without harming them. You are not allowed to uses curses which may cause permanent injury, including but not limited to those I have already listed for you. Otherwise creativity is encouraged. Do not aim at anything or anyone other than your opponent. Clear?" Severus checked that they were properly spaced; most of the spectators were squatted to avoid overshot spells. "Go."

"_Usingizi_," Victoria hissed and down went the unfortunate fourth year in a cloud of gold light. Severus enjoyed watching her duel. It was not often students could teach him fresh spells. Victoria stood at attention and watched the other pairs who were taking a bit longer to disarm each other. When they finished, Severus went to check on Victoria's partner. He appeared to have fallen into a pleasant slumber, but since he had literally fallen, Severus shook him awake and checked for signs of a concussion. "Up you go, Whitby," he said as the boy blinked blurrily at him. The losers stumbled over to join those observing, and Severus had the winners pair off again.

A Ravenclaw named Shoemaker made a bow to Victoria. She ignored the courtesy and moved into combat position. "Begin."

"_Expelli—"_

"_Ndoto!_"

Black smoke whipped around Shoemaker, and he dropped his wand. Shoemaker weaved in a drunken way; his eyes dropped closed. The other duelists stopped to watch as he began wailing and thrashing at some phantom foe. "_Finite Incantatum!"_ Shoemaker staggered back to waking. A Ravenclaw girl with dark hair stepped over to steady him. Snape glared at the petite witch. "Victoria!"

Her stony expression made no change, but she looked away and twisted her foot. "It was only a nightmare." Shoemaker was shuddering and pale like he had encountered a dementor, so Severus told one of the watchers to fetch him some water and small chocolate bar.

"I'm fine," Shoemaker murmured but accepted both.

Severus laid a hand on her shoulder as he walked past. It was meant to be reassuring, but he felt her tense and dropped it. Flitwick's brow was furrowed with concerned, but he kept his peace. "I think that's enough," Severus told the standing duelists. He faced the watchers. "Observations?"

A timid third year who had dropped in the first round raised her hand. "Victoria talks fast."

"Yes!" Severus said with an approving nod. "Dueling is about speed and accuracy. Victoria talks fast, but she also enunciates. Other observations?"

oOo

* * *

oOo

Sirius and James had tried taking him unawares, which would have worked well if Sirius did not have such a languid way of speaking, even when casting spells. Severus had ducked and rolled. Potter's spell flew overhead. Severus pulled his own wand out. "_Expelliarmus!_" His spell collided with whatever Sirius had been casting in a bright explosion. Severus smiled with grim satisfaction and readied himself for another round as Potter raised his wand again.

"Stop it!" Sickly Lupin had stepped between them.

"Whose side are you on, Moony?" James demanded.

"Yours. You don't need another detention," placated Lupin.

"We won't get a detention if no one rats," Sirius growled.

"Yeah!" Pettigrew squeaked.

"Fine," James said, giving Lupin a softened look. He stashed his wand back in it's pocket. "I'll just have to wallop Slytherin at the game this Friday. Too bad you can't ride a broom, Severus. Then I could knock you out with a bludger and be done with it."

To Lupin's evident relief, Sirius decided to join James in this new tactic. "Is it a family condition? Broomstick trouble? Better not breed, Snivellus, or you'll pass it on to your brats."

"No worry of that," James sniffed. "He can't even breed without a book."

"Excuse me, dear," Pettigrew squeaked in falsetto. "I have to check page fifty."

Severus already had his wand out, and Lupin was in the way of Pettigrew and Black, so he shot James with a Conjunctivitis Curse. Sirius flung Lupin aside and threw himself physically at the Slytherin. Severus ran.

oOo

* * *

oOo

"You won't make any friends that way," he told Victoria as the club broke up.

Victoria blinked her large, dark eyes at him. She would be a very charming little girl if she ever smiled. Dark as he was pale, graceful as he had been awkward, her small, flat nose gave her a dainty look; this generation's Curse Master could not be faulted on her hygiene. Severus understood why she needed her expressionless mask. Her bully was so much bigger than his had been, but he had tried the same tactic. He wondered now if he had been as intimidating. He thought she might not answer him, but she had merely taken time to consider a proper answer. "One does not duel to make friends."

"No, I suppose not," Severus said, seating himself on the platform. "Persephone is your friend, isn't she?"

"She is kind," Victoria replied more quickly this time and stepped towards him. She cast her eyes down and to the side, before returning her uncertain gaze to him. "She said you will protect us." Her little hand trembled. Severus gestured for her to step closer. The Great Hall was empty now, except for the two of them, but voices carried.

"I'll help you learn to protect yourself," he said gently. "You don't need to be afraid."

Her reactions were so subtle they were easy for the untrained eye to miss. Her throat tightened. "Thomas..."

"Will be protected," Severus assured her. "Slytherins look out for each other."

oOo

* * *

oOo

He had run until he rounded a corner and found Lucius, reclining against a window, surrounded by a small group of advanced students including his dark-eyed Ravenclaw. Severus had stopped two feet away, panting, forbidden from hiding behind Lucius by some invisible cool line, but desperate enough to give him a pleading look. Sirius was only a few seconds behind him. He drew up short when he spotted the Slytherin prefect, and Lucius stood and narrowed his grey eyes at the renegade Black. "Is there a problem?"

Black had worked his jaw and squeezed his fists open and shut, glaring at Lucius and Severus in turn. But even Sirius could do simple math. He had left his Gryffindors behind, and the Slytherin boys were now spreading out into an intimidating wall. With a last vicious look at Severus, he retreated. Lucius crooked his fingers to beckon trembling Severus closer. He returned to his perch and with a subtle motion drew Severus to sit beside him. Severus felt Lucius, briefly, almost tenderly touch the back of his head, gathering and releasing his black hair, then lay the same hand on his shoulder, protective, reassuring. His expression was reserved, but the set of his jaw showed anger and his eyes were narrowed in discontent. The others had floated back to their orbit. Severus thought the Ravenclaw might be cross with him for taking her spot, but instead she stroked his hair tenderly and turned her dark eyes to Lucius. "What the hell is wrong with those Blacks?"

oOo

* * *

oOo

"Your work is slipping again," Severus told Persephone as she slipped into his office.

She shrugged. "Draco's not talking to me."

"Should I be concerned?"

She shook her head and dropped her book bag on the floor. "He'll come around."

Severus remained seated at his desk and looked down at the pile of essays. He wanted to sit and talk with her, but he needed to grade. Persephone walked around behind him, and threw her arms around his neck to lay loosely on his shoulders and pressed the side of her face against his hair. She said nothing but seemed to want to nuzzle him. He pressed his lips together and touched her bare forearm. It should not be warm enough to warrant short sleeves in October, but many of the students were sporting them. His insides warred. He needed to grade. He wanted to pull her close and give her all the comfort she craved. "This is not appropriate," he told her. "I'm still your teacher."

"Sérieusement?," she sighed. She dropped her head briefly on his shoulder and pushed off in an annoyed manner. "You're always so proper. I admire you for it, really, but doesn't it get tiresome?" She leaned against his desk and looked down at the parchments. "Why do you even bother grading? N.E.W.T. marks are the only ones that really count."

He sniffed. "The N.E.W.T.s are given far too much weight. The performance of a single day hardly gives a fair depiction of a student's over all academic ability."

"Yes, but if you're the only one who recognizes that, why bother?" Persephone asked in a dour tone.

Severus sighed and gave her his attention.

She caught his expression and looked guilty. "I'm sorry. I should leave you alone."

Severus placed a hand on her wrist. "Don't." He slid his hand down to hold her fingers. "What is it?"

She settled heavily against the desk. "You'll be seeing Lucius soon." It was not a question.

"Possibly," he said.

"You can't tell him about me." It was hard to unravel her tone: sad, yearning, melancholy, resigned, curious, questioning, warning?

"No," Severus agreed. "I hadn't planned to."

She looked out his small window. "You'll have to break the circle."

"What circle?"

She raised her hand to rub her temple. "This will be the last time."

Severus stood and looked down at her. "Persephone?"

"I'm bothering you," she said, managing an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry I'll come back later." He knew better than to expect her to explain, and he was too rattled to stop her from leaving. When she had gone, he crossed over to his bookshelf and pulled out a thin journal with a dark green spine.

oOo

* * *

oOo

"What did you mean when you said James was going to marry Lily?" fourteen year old Severus asked his twelve year old friend.

"Just that he likes her," Persephone said. "My brain sticks funny words in sometimes."

"Please tell me you're not still thinking about that Mudblood," Narcissa hissed. Lucius had avoided doing homework with them for well over a week, and his extended absence made her cross.

"Just trying to figure Potter out," said Severus, which was half true.

"What are we going to do for your birthday?" Persephone asked in an attempt to cheer the blonde Black.

"Dungbomb Ravenclaw tower," Narcissa said viciously but not seriously. At least Severus doubted she would go through with it.

"I'm game." Rabastan Lestrange startled them all by sliding into Lucius's empty spot, and stretched his arm across the back of the couch, behind Narcissa. Severus never figured out whether Rabastan was acting on his own or under Bellatrix instructions, but he did understand that Rabastan was good looking enough to act as a final assault on Narcissa's dignity. She slid away from him and gave Lucius a helpless look when he entered the common room.

Lucius broke step, shot a displeased look at Rabastan, but did not interfere.

"You have any plans for Hogsmeade, Cissy?" asked Rabastan who was leaning over her hungrily.

"No," Narcissa gasped and quickly amended. "But we were making some."

oOo

* * *

oOo

Draco came back around just as Persephone had predicted, but now Harry was mad at her. She did not detail why. Severus did not attempt venturing a solution, as he did not know the cause. He still coveted her attention, and since Harry's anger seemed to cause her annoyance rather than pain, he saw no harm in it. It was safer for her if they were not too close.

On Friday her mood had turned melancholy. She had no smile for him and approached her project with mechanical lethargy. This did not worry him. He thought people should be allowed a full range of emotions without enduring an interrogation for each one. But he did take note of it. She lingered after class, taking an excessively long time to cleanup a minor spill on her table. Professor Snape tried to focus on the vials and parchments before him, but Severus knew she was waiting to speak with him. He was content for her to take her time. His own mind was heavy with thoughts. Tomorrow Snape the spy would escort students to Hogsmeade and slip away to seek an audience with Lord Voldemort before his regular meeting with the Grey Beards. Snape the Death Eater knew it was the best time to escape notice since it betrayed no deviation from his regular routine.

Snape the realist knew this would be a dangerous dance of lies and half-truths, but Snape the double agent was practiced in such things. If Persephone was right, Snape the loyal friend would be seeing Lucius Malfoy for the first time since July. Lucius would no doubt be anxious for news of his son, and Severus Snape, cold-hearted bastard, would look him straight in the eye and lie.

Severus was also rather worried about this cryptic circle that needed breaking, but he doubted the girl with the silver eyelashes making her slow way to his desk even remembered the remark.

She had other things on her mind. "I don't suppose you'd give me permission to go to Hogsmeade, would you?" Her defeated expression said she knew the answer but needed the ceremony of asking.

"I don't think that would be appropriate or advisable, nor does the Ministry," Professor Snape told her. "I'm not your guardian, and someone would recognize you." Professor Snape finished organizing his papers and arranging the phials of antidotes on their tray, while Persephone studied the wood grain, lingering.

"You could adopt me," she suggested, in the same tone she had made her first request.

For sanity's sake, he assumed she was joking. "That would be beyond inappropriate." Her lip twitched very briefly before the malaise settled back on her.

"Would you help me carry these to my office?" He asked more because she needed something to do than he needed help, and they both needed the privacy of his office. "What has peaked your interest in Hogsmeade?" he asked after the vials were set down and the door closed.

Persephone drifted over to their bench, and he followed her. "Neville Longbottom asked me to go with him to Three Broomsticks."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "So I'm standing in the way of young love?"

"No!" He had startled a blush and a laugh from her. She took his hands, but the smile was quick to fade. "Nothing like that. But I would like to go. I miss doing things like that. Normal things students get to do. That we did. Laurel was going to look at dress robes." Her fingers twisted in his, coiling around and separating his knuckles. "I suppose I'll be able to go to the dance this year, but I guess it would be inappropriate for you to go with me?"

"I'm usually required to chaperone," Professor Snape told her.

"At least you'll be there." The tip of her ring finger dipped between the crevice of his middle and index. "I had this really pretty peach dress picked out. It reminded me of flower petals. I don't suppose you care about such things."

"Deeply," he said, and she gave him a small smile. "Persephone..." He had needed to say her name and now searched for a sentence to put with it. "You know we're only trying to protect you."

"I know," she sighed. "I appreciate you looking out for me. And I understand it's not safe. But it's still sad, isn't it? Wanting something you should have but can't?"

oOo

* * *

oOo

Rabastan was persistent if not subtle. Narcissa tried sitting in an armchair during their next homework session only to have Rabastan sit on the arm. At meals, she did her best to block him with her numerous female friends, but he insisted on walking her to classes. Someone did Dungbomb Ravenclaw tower on Narcissa's birthday. This proved unpleasant for everyone, but no one was caught. Lucius called the incident tasteless, and Narcissa flushed pink.

The less wary girls did not understand why Narcissa was so resistant to the dark, good-looking sixth year that kept winking at her, but Severus and Persephone felt the same sense of unease. They evaded Rabastan for a few days by meeting in the library rather than the common room. Persephone tried to get Lucius to join them, but he claimed Quidditch practice. Unfortunately, she was overheard and word reached Rabastan. When he found them in the library, they ended the session early, and Narcissa clung to Persephone as they walked back down to the Slytherin Dungeons.

Persephone used all her kitten charms to lure Lucius back to an awkward study session, where Rabastan hung around as a fifth wheel. It might not have been so bad if he had actually done homework with them or even pretended to, but the only thing Rabastan seemed interested in studying was Narcissa. "You know, Cissy, even Snape and the puffskein have a little fun."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Narcissa demanded, a little bolder since Lucius was sitting as a barrier between her and Lestrange.

The barrier was grinding his teeth in annoyance, while the younger Slytherins blinked in confusion. "Do be a good fellow, Rabies, and shut up."

While anyone with good sense would have known it was unwise to push Lucius to a breach in protocol, Rabastan merely smiled as though he had accomplished something, and after a few minutes to lure Lucius into a false sense of security, pressed on. "So, Cissy, when do you want to have a little fun?"

Narcissa had too much dignity to answer. Lucius sat frozen over his assignment, the color beginning to rise on his statuesque face. Severus watched, waiting for him to snap, to end Rabastan, to save the day, but Lucius said nothing. Severus thought he might snap his quill, the prefect's grip was so tight, but the quill remained intact and so did Rabastan. Persephone was still frowning, trying to puzzle out the insult in her innocence.

Severus was torn between his desire to save Narcissa, and his practical belief that Lucius had every right to date whoever he wanted. He and Persephone helped guard Narcissa from being alone. Rabastan had a tendency to act as if he was not there, but he followed when he could, the ready Curse Master. Narcissa was quite happy to have some guard in Lucius's absence. When he was missing from their next study session, Narcissa got Severus and Persephone to sit flanking her on the couch.

"Move, Snape," Rabastan growled when he made his predictable appearance.

Narcissa placed a graceful hand on Severus's leg to firmly keep him in place. "Don't be rude to Severus!"

Severus had done his best to imitate Narcissa's good posture and look intimidating. Rabastan took no notice. "You got a date for the dance yet, Cissy?"

"Not yet," Narcissa admitted. "I'm still considering people." At that time, the Leaving Dance had been open to fifth years as well as the advanced students. Younger students were only allowed if invited by an older one, but a fourth year of Narcissa's popularity would be expected to attend. It would be poor form for her to turn down an invitation from an older student, unless she already had a date, and Narcissa was trapped by her good manners.

"Well, you can stop considering," Rabastan said with roguish smile. "I'll take you."

"That's very kind of you, Rabastan," Narcissa said politely. "I'll certainly consider it."

Rabastan laughed at her frigid courtesy and attempted to tweak her nose, but Severus smacked his hand before he could touch her. Narcissa fought hard to keep her smile in check. She was surprised but her cool acceptance made it clear she did not disapprove. Persephone watched Rabastan nervously, while Severus gave him a defiant sneer.

Rabastan considered Severus for a long moment, then chuckled darkly. "Look, Cissy, you have a guard dog."

"Yes, pity he's not a fifth year, or I'd take him to the dance," Narcissa said coolly. "Severus at least is a gentleman."

Rabastan laughed very hard but left them alone for the rest of the evening. Severus told Lucius about the exchange, but all he would say was "I'm glad she has you to protect her." Disappointed Severus had left aloof Lucius to read in his dorm. He was greeted in the hall by the sound of laughter and the sight of Rabastan's arm around Bellatrix's shoulders outside the sixth year boys room. The sight of a girl, particularly Bellatrix, in the boys dormitory was not too unusual. There were two rites of passage for first year Slytherins. One was locating the other houses common rooms, which was easy. The other was learning to bypass the gender wards on the dormitories, which was a bit trickier. Severus had figured both out in the first week. He was too devoted to the rules to enter either, but too devoted to his housemates to tell the teachers. As long as the visits did not happen too late or cause trouble, the prefects ignored them.

Rabastan spotted him, and Severus dodged into his dorm room before they could decide whether to bother with him, but the sight made him understand that Narcissa was just not fighting for her dignity but her virtue. He told Narcissa what he had seen, and she looked hopeful. She tried appealing to her sister as she passed in the common room. "Bella, Rabastan keeps bothering me."

Bellatrix swooped over to hug her sister. She had always been affectionate to Narcissa even when she had bullied her. "What's wrong with that, Cissy?" She hung over her and squeezed her shoulders from behind. "Two Lestrange brothers, one for each of us, and Rabies is the handsome one."

"Why don't you take him then?" asked dutiful Narcissa.

"Because I think I'm going to marry Rodolphus," Bella confided.

Narcissa frowned. "I thought you said Rabastan was the handsome one."

"Oh, he is," Bella said, still hanging over Narcissa's shoulders. "But Rodolphus is older, so he'll get the larger inheritance." She straightened up and stroked Narcissa long blonde hair. "Not that Rabastan will be wanting by any means, his great uncle is fading fast, so you ought to give him some consideration, Cissy. The Lestranges aren't quite as rich as the Malfoys, but they're very comfortable. You can't depend on Lucius."

The sisters spoke softly, but Severus heard every word and saw Narcissa's pained look. Bella kissed her sister's blonde head, but she might as well have stuck a knife in her. Rabastan brought her a bouquet of flowers, narcissuses, the next day, and she accepted them with miserable eyes and a forced smile. Lucius pursed his lips but said nothing.

She let Rabastan carry her book bag but still would not let him touch her. Narcissa held herself with all the dignity of an imprisoned queen, but it bothered Severus. Her wilting mood seemed to depress even Persephone's usually sunny demeanor. He wanted to rescue her, but he doubted he could best Rabastan in a duel. He was smarter, but Rabastan was a sixth year and raised in the old ways, which included dueling lessons. Besides unless Rabastan actually attacked or insulted her, Severus had no grounds to challenge him. He continued to shadow them, so Narcissa would not be without a guard, but Rabastan's patience was wearing thin. Other's were misinterpreting his interest.

"You're such a creepy little spider, Snape. Why don't you leave Narcissa alone?" one of the Slytherin girls from his own year asked him with a crinkled nose. Severus did not bother trying to explain to her. Narcissa was too lost in her own thoughts to defend him.

He tried appealing to Lucius again, only to be waved off irritably. Slughorn was useless. He considered writing to Narcissa's parents but suspected that they had already approved the match. Easter holiday was fast approaching, so in desperation he appealed to Andromeda. He followed her after dinner to the hall outside the Hufflepuff common room. She released her hold on Ted Tonks to cross her arms and raise an eyebrow when she spotted him.

"Please, you have to help Narcissa." Andromeda's other eyebrow went up. Ted Tonks gave him an amused smirk. Severus felt like a traitor, a spy, but he saw no other way. "Rabastan won't leave her alone, and I don't know what to do."

"Lestrange?" she said, and Severus nodded. Andromeda frowned thoughtfully. "Okay, I'll see what I can do."

Severus felt like a weight had been lifted off him and skittered back to the Slytherin dungeons. He was still worried, unsure what Andromeda could do or how Narcissa would feel about him appealing to her sister, but at least he had tried. The next Monday a good-looking, pure-blood, seventh year Hufflepuff asked Narcissa to the ball, and she practically danced through the rest of the day. Severus said nothing about his part in the matter, and as best he could tell neither did Andromeda, though he believed Narcissa suspected the latter.

Lucius rejoined their homework group after Easter and tolerated no distractions, this meant no Rabastan. Lucius studied intensely for his O.W.L.s. Severus and Narcissa took turns quizzing him, and Persephone was a willing volunteer to practice any charms that needed a human target. Lucius rewarded her with hugs and ruffling her hair, an act to which he now claimed exclusive rights. Severus sometimes wondered if he had confused her with a kitten.

They helped him battle through his O.W.L.s with reasonable success. He could not relax completely until the exams were marked, but they could at least take a break from studying. Since the students liked to at least keep up a pretence that the entrance to the Slytherin common room was hidden, Lucius and Narcissa had agreed to meet their dates in the entry hall. Severus and Persephone sat on a leather couch attempting to translate _Magica Amoris _when Lucius and Narcissa passed through. Lucius looked regal in his dress robes. Narcissa's long hair was piled artistically up with looping tendrils. She seemed to have transformed from Slytherin princess to goddess. Lucius offered his arm and escorted her to the entry hall.

Severus had to put together the events of the dance from the snippets of gossip that ran rampant through the school the next day. Rabastan had attempted to steal or man handled Narcissa. Not her date but Lucius had stepped in and told Rabastan if he approached Narcissa again he would be forced to duel him and made it rather clear this duel would be of the to-the-death variety. Rabastan tried to call Lucius's bluff, but when Lucius named his second and the talented seventh year had stepped up in support, Rabastan had backed down. The story was told with several fantastic variations and embellishments. All Severus knew for certain was that Narcissa returned to the Slytherin common room several hours later, again on Lucius's arm and looking extremely pleased with her evening.

He was sure it had been very memorable for all present, but what he remembered most from that night was Persephone's head lying close to his shoulder, stray hairs caressing his cheek, as she tried to use her French lessons to help with the Latin and knowing with absolute certainty that he had never been happier.

oOo

* * *

oOo

He would have liked to be with Persephone now instead of escorting students through the streets of Hogsmeade. There were many extra layers of security in place, but Severus questioned the wisdom of allowing the visits at all with Lord Voldemort still at large. However, the income of the only all wizarding village in Britain was rather dependent on the student surges, so there was a great deal of pressure from both the students and merchants to allow the visits to continue. No one had wanted Severus's opinion on the subject, though Dumbledore had at least done him the courtesy of listening to it. He had agreed it would be safer, but then went on some spiel about not allowing Voldemort that victory. Life needed variety to lift the spirits.

Severus believed life needed to avoid death before it worried about variety, but he was a pragmatic. No one liked pragmatics. So the students were allowed to defy Lord Voldemort by shopping. Everyone expected him to glower and look intimidating, so at least he did not need to fake delight at this mercantilism. There was no one to disrupt this mood. His current favorites were back at the castle doing homework. Severus lapped the outskirts of the small town, then wove his way through it's streets and alleys. He looked in store windows as he passed, making sure students were not breaking conduct rules or leaving themselves isolated and vulnerable.

Laurel Hedgebottom was inside Gladrags, holding up a blue set of dress robes for the approval of Anastasia Case, another one of Persephone's dorm mates. He paused outside the window, his eyes not so much on the girls but the dresses. He lapped the town a few more times and waited until after four p.m. when the students were shooed back to the castle, before entering the shop.

"How can I help you Professor?"

"I was looking for a dress," Professor Snape told the shop attendant before realizing how odd that sounded. "It's a bit of a charity case, one of the orphaned students." It was true if not truthful.

"Oh, that's very kind of you," the shop attendant, a middle aged witch with short, curly gray hair, said. "Do you know what you're looking for?"

He stood between two rows of brightly colored dress robes and spread his hands. "Something peach and flowery."

"Flowery?"

"She said something about wanting to look like a flower petal."

The shop attendant gave him a peculiar look but smiled. "I'll see what I can find for you. Do you know the measurements?"

"About yay tall," Severus said marking a line in the air just below his shoulders. "Shoulders yay wide. Medium build." He knew it would be more practical to get Persephone to mark down her measurements, but that would spoil the surprise. "She can adjust the exact fit."

The shop attendant looked skeptical but nodded. "If she has trouble, we can fit them later. I'm assuming it's for the leaving dance? No need for a rush order." Severus affirmed. He began shifting the robes apart so he could inspect them. The attendant vanished to find something. Severus rejected the first few dresses and stopped at a simple one with short sleeves and a full, layered skirt.

"That's green," the attendant said helpfully.

"Yes, thank you," Severus drawled, making little effort to hide his sarcasm. "I like the shape of it. Can one be had in peach?"

"Yes, we can take care of the color," the attendant assured him. "However you may want to look at this first." It was peach, with a high gauzy collar, ruffles, and a fabric flower at the waist.

"The green one," Severus restated. "But in peach."

"Very well," the attendant said with a tight smile. "I'll send it up to the school for you?"

Severus dipped his head. "I have other business now. Good evening." He left, satisfied the stop had not cost him more than twenty minutes. The sun was sinking low in the sky. He walked down the main avenue at a casual but business like pace, turned onto a side road and into an alley before Disapparating.

oOo

* * *

oOo

The summer between his fourth and fifth year was spent again at the Malfoy manor. There were few parties that summer. Lucius's father had returned from his business trip and did not like the noise. Malfoy senior, Claudius Abraxas Malfoy, was as pale and white-blonde as his son, tall but bordering on portly. Severus doubted he had ever been as handsome as Lucius, but he was commanding. He was an older man, a few decades beyond Severus's own father.

He tolerated Severus, because Severus was quiet. After demanding a brief report about his parents and discovering they were no one of consequence or infamy, he rarely acknowledged him. He barely acknowledged Lucius for that matter.

When Lucius's O.W.L. results arrived, he glanced over them, spoke disapprovingly about his A in Herbology, but acknowledged that the rest, five O and four E were acceptable. Severus remembered Lucius watching his father for a full ten minutes, waiting for him to say more, but Mr. Malfoy simply continued with his breakfast.

"I wasn't planning to carry on with Herbology anyway," Lucius ventured.

"Oh, you'll carry on with it to replace that mark," Claudius corrected him. "A Malfoy must do better than merely be Acceptable. You can't get by on Quidditch for the rest of your life."

Lucius pressed his lips into a white line. He hated Herbology. Severus was indifferent to getting dirt under his nails, but he knew it drove Lucius to distraction. Too many magical plants oozed, pricked, or stung for his taste. This began Lucius's summer of quiet rebellion.

He arranged for Severus to spend a week at the manor and told his parents they were visiting the Flints, which they did. He neglected to tell them that he stolen a bottle of Ogden's from his father's liquor cabinet and that Jules Flint had planned a late night gathering. He had not bothered to tell Severus either, and Severus had not thought to ask.

It was very different from the parties he had attended at the Malfoy Manor. The crowd was older. Jules Flint had already left school, same year as Rodolphus Lestrange. Phillip Crabbe and Sebastian Goyle were already twenty. They had a large bonfire burning in the woods behind Flint's grange. To Severus's dismay, Bellatrix was there, but not Narcissa. He suspected she was tucked away in bed like a good princess, maybe visiting one of her many girl friends. Bella reclined against a log with a lazy look and Rodolphus' arm trapped around her. Rodolphus had grown a short beard which almost made him look like an adult. "Don't worry," Bellatrix assured Lucius with a smirk. "Rabies is off in Paris with his great uncle." Jeremy Wilkes, from Lucius's year, was there and so were a few others Severus did not know, mostly older boys, young men.

Lucius produced the whiskey and was instantly popular. Severus was uncomfortable enough already and passed on the bottle. He sat on a log in his black robes, oversized feet on the ground, oversized hands on his bony knees, and did his best to be invisible. This worked for the first hour or two. The whiskey made Lucius laugh more and loudly. There was a gleam in his eye that Severus thought unnerving. Sebastian staggered too close to the flame, and his robes caught fire. Everyone found this funny except Severus and Sebastian. The large fellow had managed to shrug the robes off and stomp them out with a colorful spray of language and without serious injury, but Severus felt like he was the only one to recognize any actual danger.

Around midnight, Flint began coaxing shapes out of the flames. The fire play fascinated Severus at the same time it concerned him, mainly because of the varying levels of intoxication. The revelers used magic to toss the flame around. Flint's girlfriend shaped phoenixes, snakes, and unicorns from the fire. Flint made a dragon. Crabbe, Goyle, and Lucius tossed a ball of flame around like a Quaffle. He expected Bellatrix to show off, but she must have been comfortable with Rodolphus and was content to watch the show. Severus asked Lucius to show him the fire retardant charm they were using but exempted himself from the game. He suspected the others were blocking the trace but had not forgotten he was underage. He tried to give Lucius and Wilkes the benefit of the doubt, perhaps the older boys had cast the charm for them.

As the fire game lost its novelty, one of the older boys who had vanished into the woods reappeared with the drunken cry of "A Hunt!"

This was soon picked up as a chant by the others. "Hunt!Hunt!Hunt!Hunt!" Severus scowled, wondering what sort of poor animals the pack was planning on hunting. They were not going about it very practically, each hunter took a scoop of fire in his hand. "Come on, Curse Master!" Lucius told him. He did not know if Lucius or half the boys knew what they were hunting or were merely caught up in the game of it. Severus did not want to go, but the only alternative was staying by the fire with Bellatrix and Rodolphus. Bella was already playing with Roddy's beard, so he followed Lucius. The pack descended through the woods and emerged onto a country dirt road. Some one started up a low Gaelic dirge, and the others caught it up. Severus half-hoped their singing would chase off whatever they were hunting. He stumbled along after Lucius. He was tired and thirsty, but he had been taught to keep such complaints to himself. Besides Lucius was clearly enjoying himself, and it seemed poor taste to spoil his fun.

They came in sight of a modest farm house, and Flint hushed them. Severus did not spend a lot of time with Muggles, but his parents had settled in a predominantly Muggle neighborhood. They left the house mainly through the floo, but he looked out the window and down the street often enough to know what a Muggle truck looked like. And he knew wizards rarely had them.

"Why are we here?" he asked Lucius, only to be shushed.

"Think we ought to have a barn burning?" Flint asked, and Crabbe threw his handful of fire at the building. Flint laughed. It happened quickly, the other followed suit, trying to best each other with height and placement.

Severus tried to grab Lucius's arm, but he was too slow. "That's not the barn!" he protested, feeling more helpless than he ever had in his entire life. The others were too busy laughing and cheering to hear him, much less listen. Severus cast about helplessly. He knew spells that might help. A Flame-Freezing Charm. _Aguamenti_. But his hands were tied by the restriction on underaged sorcery. The fire had taken over one wall of the two story farm house. He considered trying to run inside, but the prospect of running into a burning building without being able to rely on magic terrified him. There was a well, but it would take time to draw the water and a bucket would do little good. He spotted a large, free standing bell a few feet from the well. He ran towards it, but only managed a few steps, before Lucius grabbed his shoulder. "What are you doing? Come on!"

The others were already running back to the road to watch the blaze from a distance. Lucius was too strong for Severus to resist him, though he dragged his feet. They were almost back to the road before Severus saw the front door open and a Muggle couple in their night clothes stagger out with two small children. The sight both distressed and relieved him. Realizing there was little he could do and he was now running the risk of getting them both caught, he stopped struggling and ran for the road.

When they were back at the edge of the woods, he wrested his arm away from Lucius. "Are you insane? We could have killed them?"

The darkness hid his expression, but Severus could hear Lucius sniff irritably. "What are you fussing about? They got out."

"Lucius, that was _illegal_!" Severus hissed at him.

"Only if we get caught," Lucius said dismissively. "There's no law against Muggle baiting." He sounded unconcerned.

Severus gaped at his friend's silhouette. "I think that went a little beyond—"

"Severus, don't be tiresome," Lucius cut him off.

Severus looked back at the fire, still visible from this distance. "That was their house," he muttered, too exhausted to maintain the heat in his indignation. He felt like crying but that was something else he had been trained not to do. Alive, yes, but the reality of the family's financial loss was hitting him. He knew it was the rare farmer with the means not to be devastated. Clothes gone. Toys gone. Pictures gone. "Where are they supposed to live now?"

"Somewhere else, hopefully," Lucius said, disdain bordering on disgust in his tone. "Jules has been hoping to improve the neighborhood. If he's lucky, they'll sell the land."

Severus stopped trying to reason with him. Lucius had no understanding of poverty. "I don't feel well."

Lucius wrapped an arm around him and guided him back through the forest. "Merlin, Severus, you're almost as soft as Persephone." But he said it gently, compassionately, with a trace of regret. The party was beginning to break up as they returned to the bonfire. Severus imagined even half-drunk, they were realizing it was best not to be available for questioning if the Ministry investigated.

"I think I best put the Curse Master to bed," Lucius told Flint, and Flint pointed them back to the guest house. "It's unlocked."

Severus was dependent on Lucius to hold him up as they walked to the guest house. Lucius forced a glass of milk on him and tucked him into one of the guestrooms. He was sick with guilt, but so tired he fell asleep quickly, knowing Lily was right, wondering if James was right too, and feeling his dreams die. He knew a real Auror would have stopped them. He awoke the next morning, still struggling with a feeling of disorientation and disillusionment. Lucius and the others were sleeping off the previous evening's inebriant, so Severus was the only one awake for the owl post. He was surprised to see one of the letters was for him and opened it carefully.

_Dear Severus,_

_Miss you so much! James' friends are over all the time, and they're such prats, except Remus. He's a doll. I wish you could come over. We're going to Diagon Alley on Saturday. Maybe I'll see you there._

_Love,_

_Persephone_

It took him a long time to understand how she and Lucius could exist in the same world, in his world.

oOo

* * *

oOo

There were times when he still could not understand it. He moved through a pine wood, somewhere in Wiltshire, searching for the cave entrance he had been shown before. He suspected Potter was right, that the caverns had a second entrance through the Malfoy manor, but he would have no good explanation for seeking it. It was bad enough needing to lie to Lucius without having to lie to Narcissa as well. He pushed aside a familiar branch and found it. The crack in the rock recognized his Dark Mark. He pricked his finger to give it's blood toll, and it expanded to admit him. He descended a long, narrow passage of stone steps, lit by the occasional torch.

He arranged his thoughts behind his walls of Occlumency. He was Severus Snape, Death Eater, spy for Lord Voldemort, who was taking his first opportunity to report to his master. He had taken his time, because there was little to report. In his private life, he was being tortured by the appearance of a silver haired girl who bore the name of his lost friend. As to Draco...Severus was stopped by two men at the bottom of the stairs. "Snape?"

"Crabbe. Goyle," he identified them. The two men grunted acknowledgement. He saved from awkward conversation by Lucius's greeting. "Severus!" He stepped forward and grasped Snape's outstretched hand with both of his.

"I've come to make my report," said the spy.

Lucius looked uncertainly over his shoulder towards the main chamber. "I think it best not to interrupt right now, unless it's urgent."

"It's not urgent," Severus told him. "But my time is limited. I can spare three hours at most. Two would be better."

"Of course," Lucius said. He was still Lucius, perfect posture, perfect manners, but there was a trace of desperation in his eyes. "You can spare a few minutes to have a drink with me while we wait the Dark Lord's convenience."

"Very well," Severus resigned himself.

Lucius lead him down a stone passageway and through a carved wooden door into a smaller artificial cave, furnished much like his tent had been for the World Cup. Severus had missed the game, but he had been shown the tent. A four poster bed and two armchairs before a handsome fireplace was Lucius's idea of roughing it. "I had heard so little I was starting to worry, but I can see you've spent your time decorating."

Lucius gave him an annoyed glance though his lip twitched. "I'd rather be home with Cissa, but they have her under watch." He took two glasses off a modestly sized but well stocked bar and poured them both a bourbon. Severus accepted his glass, and Lucius propped his elbow on the fireplace mantle. "I've been more idle than I would like. the Dark Lord has been preoccupied with his...experiments."

"Experiments?"

"Weather manipulation," Lucius said blandly.

Severus started. "But that's—" The word _Insane_ hung unspoken between them. They held each others gaze for a long moment, both knowing the Dark Lord who had returned was not as rational as the one that had left. Spending twelve years trapped between life and death had done more to his mind than shorten his temper. "Our October heat wave?"

Lucius gave a slight nod. "Which set off floods in India, out of season,...he was rather proud of that."

Severus repressed a shudder. Those who never studied it thought weather was a simple matter of wet or dry, hot or cold. In reality it was a staggeringly complex set of forces and factors, all connected, all highly temperamental. Not to mention the scale...clouds only looked small and fluffy at a distance. The immense amount of power needed to create even the simplest rain fall was staggering and likely to set off a catastrophic ripple effect. "To what end?"

Lucius spread his hand to indicate he was at a loss. "Power, I suppose." There was more they wanted to say, but they both needed to pretend to be loyal Death Eaters.

Lucius swirled his bourbon in the glass and stole a curious and concerned look at Severus. "I'm not as well connected as I once was, but I still hear rumors." Severus raised an eyebrow and waited for Lucius to continue. "This girl they're talking about." He paused, knowing this was a painful topic for both of them. "The new Silver Child. Is there any chance she's Persephone's?"

Severus shook his head, doing his best to ignore the look of genuine hope and concern in Lucius's eyes. "I've met her parents. Ridiculous people, but—" He shrugged. "The story is too long to repeat twice, but it was some of the nonsense that took me out of the country. I had to send her on ahead to London. Draco met her at the train station."

The skin around Lucius's eye tightened. "What was he doing there, Severus?"

Severus allowed his black eyes to shoot an accusing look at Lucius's grey ones. "What do you think?" he growled. "I told you the boy was too young."

Lucius set down his glass and covered his mouth with his hand. Genuine pain shot through his eyes for a moment. Lucius threw back his head and took a deep breath to compose himself, but still needed a gulp of bourbon to finished the job. He let the breath out slowly and took his drink with him to the nearest armchair. "I had no idea that foolish woman would be there. Dear Merlin, she was his librarian, Severus. Pureblood too. It was hard enough explaining Diggory to him."

Severus did not allow his grimace. That confirmed his suspicions about Evra's fate, and Draco's flight. He remained standing and took a slow sip.

"The other things," Lucius said slowly. "I didn't want to believe that article, but has he...Narcissa's friends told her he's been talking with that—that girl."

"Miss Granger?" Severus said it just to watch Lucius twitch. "Your son is scared, Lucius, but I don't think he's that foolish."

"It's easy to be foolish at his age," Lucius said, giving Severus a wary look. "He arranged to sit by that Mudblood in his Astronomy class. And he passed on a lunch invitation with his mother today."

"I was unaware," said Severus. "Is there another reason he might have for getting close to Potter's friends? Did the Dark Lord attempt to give him any sort of mission?"

Lucius grimaced. His glass was trembling slightly in his hand. He took another sip and set it down on the side table. "Draco told the Dark Lord that taking the mark would make him an ineffective spy. We've been trying to convince him that Draco's merely been carried away with the idea, but why would he refuse to meet with Narcissa?"

"Same reason I waited two months to report in, to maintain the illusion." Severus was careful to let his expression betray nothing. "If he has nothing to report, being seen with some one the Order suspects will only undermine any progress he's made."

Lucius snorted. "If he is trying to spy, he could have done it without exposing himself to ridicule."

"I think perhaps Draco is merely playing to his strengths," said Severus. Lucius winced, and he almost felt bad for torturing him. Almost. There was a part of him that would love to see how Lucius dealt with half-blood grandchildren. "You're afraid he may get lost in the role?"

Lucius clasped his hand below chin. "I've barely seen my son in the past two years, Severus. Not by choice, but I don't know what's in his head anymore. Does he talk to you?"

"Very little," said Severus. "But if you recall, we decided not to tell him my role in things."

"Please, Severus," Lucius said getting to his feet again. "He needs an ally."

"If the Dark Lord does not object," Severus agreed.

oOo

* * *

**End Notes:**

Some of my characters know French, but I don't. Corrections welcome.

**Next Chapter: **Breaking the circle, Henry Potter, and experiments...


	5. Breaking the Circle

**Severus Snape and the Last Year**

By Carla Lute

**Notes: **If you want to go with the zippered, semi-chronological reading of the Last Year levels, you would read Level 3.5 right after Level 2.7: The First Game of the Last Season (aka Chapter 11).

Special Thanks to Imbeni for beta testing.

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on the Harry Potter novels written by J.K. Rowling. All characters created by J.K. Rowling are owned by J.K. Rowling. The few characters created by me (i.e. Persephone, Hotchet, Kagome…) belong to me, but are available for use in other fics as long as I get credited as their creator. None of us are making any money off this and no infringement is intended.

* * *

oOo

**Level 3.5: Breaking the Circle**

The wizarding population in Britain was relatively the size of a small town though it was far more spread out. There were clusters, of course: Ottery St. Catchpole, Godric's Hollow, Amesbury, London, though many wizards preferred a rural residence for privacy. Only Hogsmeade was exclusively populated by wizards. Only London was large enough to hide a business center like Diagon Alley.

The Diagon Alley of Severus' youth was not much different from the same street twenty years later. Some of the owners and names changed during the war, but Ollivander's, Twilfit & Tatting's, Scribbulus, and Flourish & Blott's survived. Most of the others either reopened under new names or were replaced by similar stores. Young Severus found Persephone and her family outside Sweets McGee's Ice Cream Shoppe.

Severus was dressed in second hand black robes. He suspected his parents could afford new ones, but his mother had declared it a waste of money since he would be out growing them in a few months. He had to admire her practicality. The robes were in fair condition at least, a bit old fashioned, but he rather liked that about them. It made him feel more like an adult or someone who might run into Charles Dickens.

He watched the Potters from the front window of the bookstore for almost twenty minutes. Persephone's brother and his friends were with them. Sirius hung close to Mrs. Potter, trying to look cool, while James, Remus, and Peter ran about the street like ten year olds. Persephone was tugging on her father's arm. He doubted the boys would be allowed to harass him while the parents were there, but despite the invitation, he felt like he was invading. They all looked so happy and normal.

Severus had been nervously checking the Prophet every morning, looking for some news of the fire set by Flint's party, but if the Ministry knew, they had kept the incident out of the papers. Part of him desperately wanted to tell someone. He thought Lucius at the very least should try to compensate the family financially, but surly Lucius, still suffering from a slight hangover, had dismissed the idea, saying Severus clearly missed the point. What's done is done, and he did not want to hear another word about it.

It was not so simple for Severus to dismiss. "What will you do if the Ministry investigates?"

"Deny it," Lucius told his coffee cup in a voice that said that much should be obvious. Severus felt they should tell the Ministry, but he knew Lucius would never forgive him. Beyond the potential loss of a friend, he had practical concerns.

"But—"

"Stop being a wart. There's no magic for them to trace." That much might be true. There had been charms involved in handling the fire, but the fire itself had not been magical, which meant there might be no hard evidence for the Ministry to find. It would likely be his word against theirs, against a Malfoy's.

It went beyond Lucius. Bellatrix had not been directly involved but crossing the Blacks was a risky business. Flint and his crew frightened him a little, and he did not doubt they would deny his accusation. Many of them had deep pockets and political connections. They could ruin his father at the Ministry if they put a mind to it or set fire to his own house. Or their fuzzy drunken memories might name his as a willing accomplice.

These were phantom fears, and Severus might have gained the courage to overcome them. But even if the Ministry believed a scrawny fourteen-year-old with the nickname of Curse Master, who had been sent to the Headmaster's office for inappropriate reading material just a few months before, there was the reality of what might happen if they believed him. He could care less what happened to Flint, but Lucius... If the Ministry declared it attempted murder, that could mean Azkaban. If they let Lucius slide due to age and intoxication, the younger Malfoy would still have to face his father, and one late night Lucius had told Severus about some of the punishments his father had used before Lucius had found it less painful to play the dutiful son. More things Lucius would never do to his son. Lucius was consistent. And Severus felt his friend deserved a second chance. So he protected Lucius with his silence.

Years later, he wondered if he had done Lucius a disservice by holding his tongue, but he was fourteen and inexperienced. It was easy to be foolish at that age.

Guilt still clung to him like a dark cloud. He decided to slip away and not darken the family's bright day, but Persephone spotted him as he left the bookstore. She called his name and caught him in a hug. Her father had chased after her, and Persephone took Severus's hand to tug him over to meet him.

Henry Potter was the sort of man who gave hope to other plain looking males. He was round faced with a rounder belly and neat, dark hair. He was on the shorter end of average height. His features were pleasant but unimpressive. He dressed neatly and smiled kindly. He had a beautiful wife, two happy children, and a respectable job on Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee. He had made some wise investments which left them all comfortable and able to live within walking distance of the Ministry and Diagon Alley.

Severus liked him instantly. He felt a little awkward shaking Mr. Potter's hand but was glad to be treated like an adult. He envied Persephone her parents a bit but figured that was unproductive and put little energy into it. "So you're Severus. Persephone has told us a lot about you. James too."

"Yeah, but James is a liar," Persephone said loyally.

Her father smiled indulgently, clearly wishing his children were as kind to each other as he was to them. "Given the broad daylight, I think we can rule out vampire at least. They both tell me you have the top marks in James' year."

"Do I?" asked Severus.

Mr. Potter smiled at him, while Persephone laughed and swung his hand. "Ice cream?" he asked, indicating Sweets' shop.

"Severus doesn't like sweets," Persephone informed him.

A disbelieving look, a chuckle. "Good for you. Wish I didn't."

"Can we go exploring?"

Mr. Potter looked around uncertainly but seemed to have trouble telling his daughter 'no'. "Stay on the Alley and stay together. You know your way around, Severus? Good. We'll meet at the Leaky Cauldron for lunch at eleven thirty. That'll give you a full hour and a half." He place a hand on Severus's shoulder. "I'm trusting you to bring her back to me."

oOo

* * *

oOo

An hour and a half after Severus's arrival at the Death Eater's hideout, he had finished making his report to Lord Voldemort. The Dark Lord was reassured that Draco had not betrayed their location but remained unconvinced of his loyalty. Severus did not push the issue. It was hard to be caught in a lie if he claimed ignorance when he was ignorant. Voldemort denied Snape permission to reveal himself to the boy. "Let sleeping dragons lie."

The Dark Lord had little interest in Persephone but asked as a pleasantry. Severus gave a short version of the elaborate story he had prepared. In search of his friend, he had followed a rumor to South Africa. He had discovered the girl there and been disappointed to find she was only a namesake. Her parents had made some powerful enemies during the fall of the Apartheid and asked him to take her back to England with them. He had suggested they go into hiding as well, but they were stubborn people. He received news that they had been murdered shortly after his return to England. "I hear she is trying to rile students against me," the Dark Lord said after he had finished.

"She's angry," said Severus. "And pretending not to be frightened. I tried to convince her it was unwise, but your—the Death Eaters lack of visible activity over the past few months has made many less cautious."

"Which is the point," Voldemort said coldly. "But you had best try a little harder to still her tongue, Severus. I will not be _inactive_ forever."

Severus bowed his head. "Of course, my lord."

oOo

* * *

oOo

"Have you ever been down there?" Persephone had asked when they passed Knockturn Alley.

Severus shook his head. "My father said those shops are off limits."

"I just want to look," she said. "We're exploring, and I've already been up and down this street a hundred times."

"Your dad told us to stay on the Alley," Severus protested.

"Knockturn is an Alley. It's not like we're wandering around Muggle London." They both knew she was bending the truth, but she was in a mischievous mood. "Come on, just a quick look."

"I'm not going."

Persephone dropped his hand and sighed with mock-disappointment. "Ça va, I'll be right back. You can keep an eye on me from here." She gave him a flirty parting wave and took a skip towards the alley.

Helpless Severus lunged forward and grabbed her hand. "Just a quick look," he growled, deciding that she was less likely to get into real danger if he was with her. He walked quickly, hoping to drag her in and out before anyone spotted them. It was a crooked alley, narrower than the main street, though you could probably fit four men walking side-by-side if they did not mind bumping each other. Persephone grabbed Severus's left arm with her freehand and walked with her right arm pressed tight against him. While it forced him to slow down, he found he did not mind so much.

Actually he found himself wanting to stall in Knockturn Alley, even though his hand was feeling a bit sweaty. "Look at that!" Persephone squeaked, pointing through the first dingy window at a cage of giant spiders. "Aren't they fantastic?"

Severus managed to both wince and smile at the same time. He looked down at his friend. By that time he had come to regard silver as just another pigment, but she was still an odd little girl. "Do you think people keep them as pets?" One of the spiders blinked at her curiously, which was a better reaction than she got from most cats.

"Most likely for potions and ritual ingredients," Severus said, trying to sound like an expert.

"Oh, that makes me sad." She tapped on the glass. "Hello."

"Look in there," Severus said, pointing to a fire pit inside the store. "Salamanders."

"They use the blood for healing potions, right?" He was pretty sure at that point that he loved her.

"You said a quick look," he reminded her. They walked past the next couple shops more quickly. A store boasting shrunken heads and other foreign curiosities managed to disgust her. A pale, thin fellow watched them from the shadow of a shaded entryway which lead down to a basement entrance. Another door was marked only by a few runes, and the shop across the street bore only the name Harfang's with drawn shades. Severus decided they had wandered far enough and pulled her back towards Knockturn's entrance.

A few other shady shoppers eyed them curiously as they passed. Persephone's silver hair did not seem as out of place in Knockturn Alley as her floral print dress or sunny yellow robe. A man with a shabby brown top hat and similarly stained teeth bowed to them and held out a gold coin. "Galleon for a lock, my pretty?"

"No, thank you," Severus said curtly and kept himself between them as he hurried Persephone away. He felt a little more free to breath when he caught sight of proper store windows again.

"Do you think that was a real vampire?" Persephone whispered in an excited voice.

Severus thought at first she meant the man with the top hat, then realized she meant the fellow in the shade, and nodded. "I've heard rumors there's a vampire den down there...or maybe it was a tavern."

Persephone's eyes were shining with excitement. Odd girl. Pretty girl. Clear skin, pink lips. She stopped in front of the largest store window on Knockturn and peaked in at all the curiosities there. It was the only shop on the side alley that Severus thought he might like to enter someday. Several of the items were clearly dark, others were just unusual, and he did like the unusual. He was squinting to read the description on some contraption he had never seen before, when James' voice crashed in on them.

"What are you doing down here?" he demanded.

Persephone cringed but attempted to look nonchalant as she turned to her brother. Severus did not bother to hide his contempt. "Exploring," Persephone said with false bravado.

"Isn't it obvious, James?" Sirius said with a nasty smirk. "They're planning their wedding."

"Shut up," James snapped irritably. "I'm telling, mum."

"Fine," Persephone said. "I'll tell her you were down here too."

Persephone was still clutching his hand which made it difficult for Severus to not look like he was hiding behind her. James glared at him. "I was only down here fetching you," he said, but his eyes shifted and Lupin looked guilty, which made Severus think they had also been exploring.

"Why don't we all head back to the Cauldron?" Lupin suggested.

Severus was suddenly very glad there was a restriction on underage sorcery. He suspected James would have liked to hex him. The older Potter's hand hovered near his wand pocket, but Lupin had a soothing effect on him. "Fine."

Persephone marched out of Knockturn Alley, dragging him along. He did not like having Potter's gang behind him, but his head was too tangled with thoughts to argue with her. The part of him that loved accuracy wanted to correct Sirius, but as much as he hated Black, the taunts had ignited thoughts in him that were not entirely unpleasant. He did not like James or anyone thinking he was trying to prey on his female friends, but if he did get married someday, it would be better if his wife was also his friend, wouldn't it? Her soft hand felt really nice in his.

Potter's gang seemed to decide letting her reach the adults first was a bad idea and fell into pace with them. Lupin wandered close, and Persephone grabbed his hand too.

"Two-timing Snivellus already, Hissy?" Black taunted from behind them.

Persephone looked over her shoulder to glare at Sirius and James. "I'm not two-timing anyone, just auditioning new brothers."

It was not a fair retort, since it seemed to cut James and leave Sirius unscathed. Severus mulled over this new theory on the nature of their relationship and checked Lupin's reaction. The ill, half-smile told him nothing, except that Lupin was mildly embarrassed. It was hard to feel any jealousy towards someone who looked like they might blow over if a strong wind hit them, so Severus put his energy into worrying what Persephone's parents were going to think about them getting caught in Knockturn Alley.

They quickened their pace when they came in sight of the Leaky Cauldron. Someone had just tapped the bricks to open the wall between, so they were able to pass directly into the back of the pub. Mr. and Mrs. Potter were already there. The adults were securing a large table. Sirius ran over to pull out Mrs. Potter's chair for her. James ran to make his report first. Lupin slowed Persephone's progress by not releasing her hand. This gesture also stopped her from crashing into an elderly witch in a green cloak, so she did not fuss at him.

"Snape took Persephone to Knockturn Alley!" James declared, while Severus waited for the witch to pass. Henry frowned thoughtfully, and Mrs. Potter shot him a concerned look. Severus wanted a rock to hide under. "Told you he was a Dark Wizard."

"_Severus_ didn't want to go," Persephone said when she got loose from Lupin and reached her father. "I just wanted to see, Daddy. We didn't go in any shops. Severus only came cause I said I'd go alone without him. So you can get mad at me, but not him. Anyway, James was there too!"

"Only to get you!" her indignant brother repeated.

"Stop!" Henry Potter said in what passed for a stern voice. "Persephone, you know Knockturn is off limits. It's no place for children."

"Daddy, I'm thirteen," she whined.

"It's no place for teenage girls either...or boys. Particularly not these days. You should be ashamed of yourself for dragging Severus down with you." Persephone looked properly chastened. "James, we'll talk about this more when we get home. Now everyone sit down. It's time for lunch." James stalked around to take his place by Sirius.

Severus was ushered into a seat between Persephone and her father. He could not believe his luck at having escaped blame or the mildness of the reprimand. He considered asking Mr. Potter for advice about what had happened at the bonfire night, but there was no way to do it without James and Persephone overhearing.

Henry Potter saw some sign of his anxiety and bent over to whisper. "I know my girl can be a little stubborn but keep giving her good advice. Maybe someday she'll listen." Severus smiled weakly.

Persephone was already past being chastised and was telling her mother about her adventure. "And I think we saw a vampire!"

"Persephone, there's nothing romantic about vampires," her mother rebuked her gently.

"They're fascinating," Persephone sulked. "I wish I could have talked to him."

A platter of hamburgers and two baskets of chips arrived at the table. The Gryffindor boys greedily filled their plates as a server shuffled over to take drink orders. Severus pulled an apple from his pocket.

"You don't eat meat either?" asked Mr. Potter.

"I do-I just didn't bring any money," stuttered Severus.

"Nonsense, eat," said Mr. Potter.

"Here," Persephone stopped long enough to drop a hamburger on his plate, before returning her attention to Lupin. "Remus, did you see that new book on werewolves? Ow! James! Don't kick me!"

Severus hid his smile with the hamburger as Mr. Potter tipped some chips on his plate. It might not be so bad to be Persephone's brother if it meant parents like this. Everyone was talking when they were not chewing, though some of the Gryffindor boys attempted to do both. Meals at his house were always so quiet. Mr. Potter asked Severus about his books then asked Peter how his brothers were doing.

oOo

* * *

oOo

The Death Eaters had not been completely idle in the months since the battle at Riddle House. They had been recruiting. Many of them wore masks, but Severus recognized the young voices of former students. Marcus Flint, Miles Bletchley, Aaric Bole, Charles Warrington. Marcus did not surprise him. His father was also there under a mask. Severus considered asking them how Addy was faring at Beauxbatons, but Flint liked the illusion that the mask hid his identity. He was surprised by Warrington. Severus had had higher hopes for him. Except for Warrington, they were all older than he had been when he joined the Death Eaters, but that seemed ridiculously young now.

He had little time to socialize. The Dark Lord wanted his Death Eaters to gather round and participate in his latest experiment. The loss of sanity that Lucius and Severus dare not discuss had done nothing to damage Lord Voldemort's power or cleverness. If anything it had heightened his attention to detail. What made him more terrible and terrifying was that he seemed to have lost any sense of consequence. The Lord Voldemort of his youth had been extremely aware of every political ripple, every potential loss and gain from his actions, regardless of how horrific the act itself was, there had been some purpose behind it. This Voldemort perhaps had not lost the ability to see such ripples, but he no longer cared about them. The illusion of family had been stripped away for most of Severus's generation, though he was unsure what the young men had been told. Voldemort no longer culled or persuaded; he demanded and expected.

Now he demanded his Death Eaters join him in the main chamber. His preparations were meticulous. There was a scale model of Hogwarts on a pedestal under a glass dome. The floor had been smoothed. There was a perfect circle in ash. Elaborate runes covered the floor, portions of the walls, parts of the pedestal and the Dark Lord's robes. The circle was approximately a rod in diameter1. The Dark Mark created a nonverbal link between the Dark Lord and his followers at close range, enough so that he could instruct them to form a circle a foot outside the ring without speaking. He guided with thoughts and gestures until the thirty men had squeezed around to his liking. Severus found himself shoulder to shoulder with Lucius and another man. He knew Lucius from the height and the white-blonde strands of hair that had slipped out from under his hood. The other man might have been Crabbe. It was hard to say. Severus had to focus on his Occlumency with the Dark Lord's mind touching so close to his.

"We begin," Voldemort said, though he had neglected to tell his loyal followers what they were beginning. He began to chant, a quick low succession of spells that blended together like a song. The power in the room seemed to crackle and surge. Nothing moved except around the glass enclosed model, but the nature of the plan began unfolding through the Dark Mark's link. They were creating a tornado to hit the Headmaster's tower office. If Dumbledore died from the strike, all the better, but the purpose was mainly one of demonstration. To conquer weather, to invade the most fortified place in Britain with it, would demonstrate the Dark Lord's power in a significant way, might even force the hand of the Ministry into an open surrender.

While there were five thousand ways the plan could go wrong, Severus was more worried about it going right. It bordered on the insane, but insanity often sat beside brilliance. Voldemort was just mad enough to pull it off. He felt power being drawn from himself and the other Death Eaters to feed the spell. He fought the heavy urge to close his eyes and saw the air around the model take shape. The clouds were there already. The Dark Lord was creating wind. It circled...

_You'll have to break the circle._

Severus grimaced. That seemed clear enough, but which circle? If he stepped out of place, he was a dead man. The ash was a circle, the glass was a circle, the wind was circling, disturbing any of them would most likely earn him a death sentence. Perhaps that's what she had meant by _the last time_. He scowled, and behind his Occlumency, tried to sort through his knowledge of magical theory, rituals, and weather magic. His mind told him that this sort of ritual was extremely demanding but also very fragile. He might be able to derail it with minimal effort. The easiest, least obvious thing to do would be to reach out a toe and smudge the ash circle. If the spell simply fizzled out, such a smudge would be easily spotted and impossible to explain away. Severus felt a surge of strength leave him and saw the start of a funnel form over the model. There was no time for caution. He would have to break the circle and break it now.

No sooner had he finished dragging the edge of his sole across the ash line, when the glass exploded. The wind was released inside the chamber and knocked all the Death Eaters off their feet. Severus pushed up to look around and found the wind had also distorted the ash circle past recognition. He sank back down and allowed a few seconds to catch his breath. He heard Lucius's aristocratic grunt beside him as the Malfoy tried to struggle up with some level of dignity.

Lord Voldemort had been quick enough to escape with only a few scratches. A red line graced his white cheek. He alone remained standing. Mudada was the first of the Death Eaters to stagger back up. His dark hands betrayed his identity. The Death Eaters were too few in number to be ethnically diverse. Mudada dropped to a crouching bow, one knee on the ground. "We will try again, My Lord?"

The Dark Lord glared at him with irritation, but Mudada's enthusiasm and respect tended to calm him. Many of the others did not bother rising but curled into deep bowing positions, doing their best to escape the Dark Lord's notice. Lucius, not to be out done, imitated Mudada's dropped knee position but kept his head down. Severus's back ached too badly for swift movement, and he was caught directly looking into the Dark Lord's red eyes when Voldemort's head turned in his direction. He allowed confusion and matters of thaumaturgy rise to the surface of his mind. The Dark Lord must have spent months in preparation for such a grandiose piece of magic and trying again was likely to take another several months, the proper alignment of the stars, and the right meteorological conditions. The Dark Lord held Severus's gaze, and he dared not look away.

"I must...uncover...what disrupted...the ritual in first place," Voldemort said slowly, his high voice dripping acid. He was still wheezing from exertion. Mudada followed his gaze and narrowed his dark eyes accusingly at Severus. He felt his chest tighten. He had survived the Cruciatus Curse in the past but had no desire to repeat the experience. "Go, Severus! I need to know if Dumbledore suspects."

Severus made an extra effort to get to his feet and bent into a hasty bow despite the protests of his back. He did his best to walk swiftly to the stairs with dignity and not betray the mild injury, but he feared that he did move a bit too stiffly. He limped up the stairs, hardly daring to breath.

When he emerged, the night sky had settled over the forest. He Disapparated swiftly, weak but focused enough to return to Hogsmeade, making only a few more stops than when he had come. He staggered a bit on his way to the Three Broomsticks. Hopefully a stiff drink and a good night's rest would put his back in order. He knew Poppy could mend it, but he hated lying to her. _This will be the last time._

The phrase would not bother him so much, if Persephone was not so damn accurate. He had a journal full of her little unwitting prophecies. He was long past viewing them as a gift. It was her curse to make them and his to hear them. Not just from her. He had been skulking in the hall, a foolish young spy, when he had overheard Trelawney fall into one of her rare trances.

He was in no mood to listen to the Grey Beards tonight, but he decided he would stay long enough for a drink and a bowl of bat broth. Lord Voldemort was not patient, but he did understand that Severus could not simply stroll up to Dumbledore and demand information.

oOo

* * *

oOo

"Did you mean what you said? Do you think of me like a brother?" young Severus had asked Persephone nearly a month after their side trip to Knockturn Alley. It was a warm summer day. Lucius had negotiated with his father to allow a weekly Quidditch practice. Severus had managed to stay mad at him long enough to avoid the manor for a fortnight before returning to the solace of the library. Lucius was practicing with only half his team, which meant a few other potentials had been invited. The Blacks had more respect for Mr. Malfoy's ability to keep his son's gatherings in check, and Bellatrix was busy planning her wedding, so Narcissa had been allowed to take Persephone as an escort.

Narcissa had developed an interest in photography and was taking pictures of the boys, which Lucius seemed to find both annoying and flattering. Persephone was not fond of Quidditch, but she liked being included. Flying and the violence of the game both terrified her, but she was less nervous during practices.

The heat had caused her to discard her outer robes, so she wore only a knee length brown skirt and a short-sleeved, lace trimmed blouse. Severus was still in traditional long-sleeved, black robes. They were thin and had no front openings, so he was able to get away with only boxers underneath. They were lazing in a couple of lawn chairs in the shade of an alder tree while the Quidditch players darted overhead. Persephone frowned at them. "Non, mon ami, I think I'm up to here with brothers." She let out a puff of breath which pouted her lips. "I'd take Remus for James any day, but it seems like I'm getting Sirius instead. He practically lives at the house now. Peter too, but he's not as annoying. It's nice to get away."

Severus was glad she thought of Lupin as her brother. He had been having trouble keeping his thoughts brotherly. The curve of her knee and the pattern the lace made on her arm was fascinating him. He doubted brothers were supposed to linger on such things. "Do they bother you a lot?"

"Not really," Persephone admitted, still watching the players. "Ignore me mostly. They're always locked up in James' room working on some big project."

The players set down and headed for the tray of lemonade perched on a white table not far from where they were sitting.

A tall, good-looking boy with brown hair stopped to give Persephone a smile. "Hey, Sephi, good summer?" She smiled at him and nodded. Severus did not like the way the boy's eyes traveled. He was not the only one to have noticed she was developing curves.

Lucius appeared to nudge his teammate along. "Mm-mm," he said with a slight shake of his head. The good-looking boy laughed and went to take his lemonade. Lucius handed Persephone a glass and asked Severus if he wanted one.

"I'm fine," Severus said, not wanting to give up his seat. Being away from Persephone depressed him, so he had come to believe he was painfully in love with his friend. Painful, because he suspected that if not Lucius himself, she would prefer a boy like him. Tall, good-looking, full of social grace. Just like the boy who had smiled at her. He was worthy of a little jealousy. If Severus remembered correctly this particular boy was heading into his seventh year, a Quidditch player with good grades and enough sense to have avoided Bella's gang. He was the clean, properly ambitious sort who could easily win over parents. Persephone's mother was kind, but Severus believed he worried her a little. No one wanted a scrawny, greasy, little Curse Master hanging around their daughter.

Another boy had handed Narcissa a glass before she made it back to Lucius. She playfully pretended to take his picture before settling beside the Quidditch Captain. Bella's absence had put her in a good mood. Andromeda had also gotten engaged and been properly disowned, which meant she was spending her summer with Ted Tonks. Narcissa was enjoying the scandal. Lucius was doing a fair job of pretending she only had one sister. Persephone had told him quietly, "It's sounds very romantic, but you'd think they could wait." Severus thought little of it.

Andromeda simply was not bound by the rules of propriety that applied to everyone else. He thought she was a bit of an idiot but admired her bravery. If the wizarding world did not accept her, she and Ted could venture off into the Muggle one and could probably be quite happy. Hufflepuffs. No ambition.

His own ambition was flagging. Becoming an Auror was starting to sound like a naive dream. He did not want to end up like his parents, constantly quarreling over money, and he was starting to think he ought to pursue steadier work with a higher pay grade. If he wanted to marry a girl like Persephone, he ought to be able to provide a nice life for her. He certainly was not going to win a girl over with looks and charm. "I'm considering new careers," he said to test his friends' reactions.

Narcissa gave him a sideways look and played with her camera. Her family was part of the old school that discouraged witches from seeking careers before husbands. She tended to retreat into herself when other students discussed their career plans. "It's about time," Lucius said. "Father's going to train me to take over our business concerns once I'm done with school. But you'd be wasted at the Ministry. I could find you something far more lucrative."

"I think it's more important to enjoy your work than make money at it," Persephone said thoughtfully. Lucius gave her the indulgent smile that meant he thought she was being adorably naive. "I understand you _need_ money, but it's important to feel useful. Besides if you enjoyed what you did, you don't need a lot of money to do other things."

"And what if Severus wants a family?" asked Lucius. "He has to consider how he'll support them."

Persephone shrugged one shoulder. "I suppose that's part of considering what you want. But I know I'd rather marry someone happy than rich. I think I might become a healer, then I'd make enough money for both of us."

"Severus, you're clever enough to be a healer," suggested Lucius. It was one of the few professions for which he had a true respect.

Severus squirmed uncomfortably. He did not like the idea of constantly having to deal with sick people all day or constantly dealing with people in general for that matter. "I'll have to think about it."

"Merlin, how can you wear black today?" Narcissa complained with a smirk. "You make me hot just looking at you."

oOo

* * *

oOo

"Would you like some of my draught?" Dumbledore asked as Severus sunk down in the chair before his desk with a wince. He had stayed longer than first intended with the Grey Beards. Some of them had noticed an odd cloud formation in the area and had launched into a discussion of weather magic, which he had hoped might be fruitful. His back pain had amused them. They declared he was growing old by osmosis and ought to consider getting married before spending much more time with them. _Though I was sixty when I met my current wife_, said a wrinkled wizard who wore his long, light grey hair in ringlets. _Never too late for a romance._

He waved off Dumbledore's offer. He knew far too much about potions not to be very careful with them. If sleep failed to cure him, he would see Poppy in the morning. "Did you take note of the weather tonight?" asked Severus.

The Headmaster shook his head. "I was sleeping until you woke me up. It's all right. I expected you. I'm guessing it was a long night."

Severus recounted the ritual and what he had learned during his visit, while the furrows on Dumbledore's brow deepened with concern. "Do you think he suspects you?"

Severus spread his hands. "He made no accusation. I was ordered to discover whether you had noticed anything."

"Hmm." Albus Dumbledore tapped a long thin finger against his bearded lip. "While it would be my preference that all men spoke the truth, I believe it might be a better deterrent if we exaggerated my knowledge of the event. Perhaps imply that I, in my great foresight, am now taking steps to shield Hogwarts from such dangers. However I am irritatingly coy with you about the exact nature of these new wards."

Severus gave a tired nod.

"Off to bed with you, now, my boy."

oOo

* * *

oOo

Lucius threw a Quaffle at him after the girls had gone home and his teammates were finishing their practice. Severus fumbled the catch, but he had never claimed great coordination. He bent over to pick the ball up, while Lucius tutted at him. "You're never going to make the team if you don't practice," Lucius said.

"Hah," said Severus, giving Lucius a sour look. "There's only seven spots on the team. You're better off saving them for someone who can fly."

Lucius raised his eyebrows. "Didn't you have a flying class your first year?"

Severus glowered at the memory. "I got bucked off the broom."

"Belby didn't work with you?"

Severus shrugged. Senior Belby had made a half-hearted offer, but Severus had had enough humiliation. "Persephone can't use them either."

"Maybe I'll get her a silver one made some day," Lucius said, though there was a hint of hesitation in his voice. Even for him that would be a ridiculously expensive gift. "Regardless, you don't have her condition, so I want you able to play when we're down a man. Come here."

Severus gave Lucius a surly look but decided to humor him. He handed Severus his very nice racing broom. Severus laid the broom gently on the ground and stretched his hand over it. "Up," he said, not expecting anything and getting exactly what he expected.

Lucius's nostrils twitched in annoyance. "Don't say the word. _Think_ it."

Severus was intrigued by this approach, though it made a lot of sense on reflection. Wand work required concentration, if he could treat the broom like a wand. He held his hand over it and focused on not just the word but the concept. _UP. _The broom flew into his hand, and his fingers closed around it. Lucius's broom was perfectly polished and smooth unlike the knobby school broom had been. Severus liked the feel of it.

"Much better," Lucius said. "Mount it."

Severus tried to angle the broom, so he could throw his leg over it without exposing his boxers. "Keep it straight while you mount." Since it had tried to jump from his hands, he did as Lucius ordered. With a bit of hop, he managed to get across without exposing himself.

Lucius made a slow circle around him. "Don't clutch so tightly, proper brooms have cushioning charms. Pretend it's a horse, find the saddle. You want to be firm, but not strangle it."

"I've never ridden a horse," said Severus.

Lucius's lip twitched. "Neither have I. It's a metaphor." Severus smiled at that. It was comforting to know Lucius had not done something. "Directions are simple. You lift the front up, it goes up. Point down, it goes down. Right, right. Left, left. Hold straight to hover."

Severus blinked at Lucius. He made it sound infinitely more straight forward than the flying instructor had. It had driven him to distraction that Senior Belby had only given them instructions without explanations. "Speed?" he asked.

Lucius smiled at him. "Lean forward for top speed, lean back to stop. It works best if you can coordinate your thoughts to agree with your actions."

Severus nodded and lifted the broom handle to point up, leaning forward very slightly. To his delight, the broom rose, just as he wanted. A broad smile split his lips as he rose higher. _Coordinate thought to action_. Why hadn't the instructor just _said_ that? Severus pressed his lips together in a determined line and focused on the three large Quidditch rings that poked above the trees in Lucius's back yard. He gripped the handle firmly and leaned forward.

oOo

* * *

oOo

His back had improved by the next morning, so he laid in bed a few extra hours to rest it. He used the time to consider how best to get his report on Dumbledore back to Lord Voldemort. It gave him an excuse to write Narcissa, and he began composing that letter in his head. She was not technically a Death Eater, but she was used often enough as a legitimate front. She could be trusted to pass along any messages.

He propped his back against a pillow, so he could sit up comfortably in bed. He conjured a tray and summoned some parchment and a self-inking quill.

_Dear Narcissa,_

_I hope you are well. I realize these are trying times for you and know I am a poor correspondent, but I wished to ease your mind on one point. Other rumors this year have bordered on the absurd, so I wanted to give you an accurate report before exaggerated ones caused you undue concern. I have a standing appointment with a casual group of intellectuals known as the Grey Beards at the Three Broomsticks. When I arrived yesterday evening, several of them commented on having noticed an unusual cloud formation in the vicinity of the school. The Headmaster noticed it as well. He suspects the clouds to have been twisted by some magical means, which is alarming._

_However there was no damage done to the school or even serious threat of damage as far as we can assess. The Headmaster reassures me that he will be adding additional wards to the school's protections to prevent possibility of damage to the school from extreme weather. I believe there are some basic lightning deflection charms in place already. Unfortunately I can not tell you what the headmaster plans to do to augment these protections. However since it is Albus Dumbledore, I suspect they will be effective. Be reassured that your son is quite safe here._

_Draco continues to do well in my class, though he's always had a talent for Potions. Some of the other professors have commented on his increased studiousness which is encouraging to see since he'll be sitting his N.E.W.T.s at the end of the year. I do not wish to bore you, so I will keep this epistle brief._

_Respectfully,_

_Prof. S.S._

Once the ink was completely dry, he slid the letter into an envelope, sealed it, and took it up to Owlery. The pain in his back had eased to a dull ache, though the twisting stairs did it no favors. Severus was returning from the West Tower when Persephone crossed his path. She looked at him with anxious eyes. "I was worried about you when you missed breakfast."

"No need for worry, I only had a bit of a lie-in this morning." She looked unconvinced. "My back was bothering me a bit." She stepped forward. Her hand reached toward him, but she stopped short. They were not in his office, and that required a stronger guard on their conduct. Severus schooled his features into a mask but allowed an ironic smile. "Back aches are not uncommon for old men."

"You're not old...Professor," she said softly. "Just mature."

Severus felt his smile grow soft. Yes, maybe they could use his textbook after he retired.

"Excuse me, Professor," Draco Malfoy said as he caught up to them. "We were heading to library, but if I need to reschedule..."

"I don't see why," said Professor Snape. He gave a short nod to his clever ally and his beloved and excused himself. He was grateful to Draco now for forcing her to study. If she still had any hopes of being a Healer, she needed her N.E.W.T.s first. He could be patient. He had a lot of practice.

oOo

* * *

oOo

They were back in his office by that afternoon, sitting properly, hands twisting in all the ways their bodies were not allowed. "I think I want to be a psychologist." Persephone told him as she slid her fingers across his palm. "We've been learning about the branches of Muggle Medicine. And I think that one's really interesting. We don't really have any equivalent for wizards. When bad stuff happens, people just expect you to buck up or hand you a potion. If it's not a magical problem, we don't know how to deal with it."

Severus allowed his brow to crease thoughtfully. "What does a psyclologist, do?"

She pressed her palm against his. "A psychologist studies the mind, what makes people tick, and I guess how to fix them when their ticker is broken."

"Basically a mental Healer?"

"More or less. A psychologist doesn't use magic. They just sort of talks people through things."

Severus smirked at her. "You want to make a career out of talking?"

She gave him a small smile. "I think it's a special sort of talking but essentially. Everyone needs someone to talk to."

"Normally that would be the role of friends or family." Assuming they had friends. He thought this profession sounded a bit like a friend for hire.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Persephone got one of her far away looks. "There are a lot of things people don't want to tell their friends." She spoke in the voice that made him think she was more thirty-six than sixteen. "And sometimes family's the biggest problem."

Severus's home had always seemed twice as dark and small when he returned from the Malfoys' manor. His bedroom was roughly the size of the closet in the Malfoys' guestroom where he had stayed on occasion. Most nights he came home out of fear that he would overextend his welcome with Lucius or Claudius or get caught up in another gathering like Flint's bonfire. Day time at the manor still seemed safe from the rest of the world.

If he was lucky, he could slip up to his room with minimal interaction. "Back are you?" his father demanded from behind his copy of the Daily Prophet. It's terrible reality was splashed in headlines on the front page. MUGGLE TOURISTS IN BATH MURDERED BY KILLING CURSE, ELAINE STARKEY STILL MISSING, CASPER CROUCH ON TRIAL FOR WIFE'S MURDER.

At fourteen, Severus hated newspapers, even the Muggle ones seemed only capable of reporting tragedy. He was depressed enough without carrying the weight of other people's problems. "ANSWER ME WHEN I SPEAK TO YOU!" his father yelled at him without moving from his chair.

"I thought it was a rhetorical question," said Severus blandly at a volume he thought far more civil. His mother glanced up at him from her sewing. She preferred doing it by hand. His parents considered using magic for things easily done by hand to be lazy, though Severus had never sorted out why. They were wizards after all.

"Sarcastic twit, I don't see how the Malfoys put up with you without manors." His father returned his attention to his paper.

Severus was not sure whether his father expected him to answer that or not. It rarely seemed to matter. He had not been trying to be sarcastic. He had thought it was a rhetorical question.

"They've sentenced Janus Thickey's wife to Five Years in Azkaban," Tobias told his wife.

"She got off light," said his mother. "Considering what she did to her husband."

Severus was familiar with this particular case. Lucius had thought Mrs. Thickey completely justified, since her husband had faked his death to go live with a Muggle tavern owner. "She should have fed him to a lethifold," he muttered.

"Think it's funny to murder people, do you?" His father gave him a disgusted look.

Severus was not sure how his father had gotten funny out of his dour tone and blank expression. "I think he deserves what he got."

"Oh, so you're the Wizengamot and Chief Warlock now?"

Severus gave up. He climbed the stairs to his tiny room. There he stretched out on his bed and tried to imagine what it would be like to come home to a hug and a smile.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Severus was a little concerned when not only Draco and Persephone were late to the Halloween feast, but Harry Potter and his two Gryffindor friends were absent as well. "Where do you think your Head Boy has gone?" he asked Albus.

"They were going to clean up," Minerva informed them. "They were all covered in pumpkin innards from the carving. Insisted on doing it by hand."

Severus fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Ms. P. and Mr. Malfoy are missing as well."

"We'll ask the ghosts to look for them," Dumbledore said, waving the Fat Friar towards them. The amiable spirit only made it as far as the high table, when the two Slytherins stalked into the Great Hall in a poor temper. The Gryffindor trio followed a minute later, looking bemused.

"There. All is well," said a relieved Dumbledore.

From the scowl on Persephone's face and parlor of Draco's, Severus doubted that, but he was able to enjoy the rest of the feast. Persephone entered his office the next morning like a storm cloud. "Harry is just as bad as James!"

Severus, who in the past had said as much himself, realized how horribly inaccurate it was when coming from someone else. Harry Potter was no saint, but it was rare he caught him cursing anyone in the halls, and that was almost always— "Did he do something to Draco?"

Persephone's huff seemed to be an affirmative. "I don't even know why they were down there. They had no business—!" Her lip trembled.

Severus stood and walked over to her. "Tell me what happened." She shook her head. "Persephone, I am not just your friend. I'm your Head of House. If one of my students is attacked by someone, I need to be told!"

"He didn't attack us," Persephone admitted. "They didn't break any rules. They were just _mean_. I can't—I'm not putting up with this all over again. I'm not letting Harry treat Draco the way James treated you! I'm just not!"

Severus wanted to hold her but settled for putting a hand on her shoulder. "What happened?" he repeated gently.

Persephone bit her lip. "There was boggart...and it was really scary. And they just—they laughed."

Severus dropped his hand and returned to his desk. "If your brother's greatest crime against me had been inappropriate laughter, I would have had a rather pleasant school career."

"Draco won't get out of bed," Persephone told him.

"Is that the fault of Mr. Potter or the boggart?" asked Severus. "Coming face to face with your worst fear is...a difficult experience."

Persephone seemed determined to stay mad but sank down in the visitor's chair to chew over what he had said. "That's why it was so mean to laugh," she sulked. He did not argue with her. Memories of his last encounter with a boggart gave him some sympathy for Draco.

Four years ago in the staff room, he had opened the wardrobe only to have her body fall out of it. He had no idea how long he had stared at it before Lupin found him. _It's not her, Severus. She'd be much older now. It's not her. _

Some part of Severus's mind had already worked that out. _I know._

_Let me get rid of it for you? _Lupin had offered in a delicate voice.

Severus had stopped him. _No! _He knew it was not real. He knew if he tried to touch her there would be no substance. He knew it was waking every terror in his sleeping heart, but it had been the first time in sixteen years he had had been able to look at her. He did not think he could stand watching her body transformed into something else.

_This isn't healthy, Severus._ Lupin's voice had seemed so far away, though the man had squatted next to him. _I miss her too, but it's not her. Let me put it back in the wardrobe at least._

When Severus had made no move to stop him, Lupin stepped between him and the wardrobe and managed to close it up with the boggart inside. _I think it would be good for my students to get a chance to face one in controlled conditions. Do you mind if I bring my class here?_ Severus had shrugged, and Lupin had gone to fetch his class. He had sat staring at the closed wardrobe for a long time.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Before the start of his fourth year at Hogwarts, he had accompanied Lucius to Diagon Alley to buy school supplies. Lucius donated his old textbooks to Severus, which allowed him to keep a little extra money from what his parents had allotted. Lucius of course had to have new books. Their progress through Flourish and Blotts was slow. Everyone either knew Lucius or wanted to know him, so he exchanged many nods and greetings, while Severus searched the shelves for anything worthy of making him part with the Sickles in his pocket. They were on their way out of the store, when the crowd opened enough for him to catch Lily Evan's eye. She gave him a friendly wave, and Severus gave her a crooked smile in return, before hurrying after Lucius.

Severus was relieved to have Lily smiling at him again and did not notice where they were going until Lucius took a step into Knockturn Alley. "Why are we here?" he asked anxiously. Lucius paused and gave Severus his _don't-be-tiresome_ look. "I'm not going in dark magic shops," he said stubbornly, wondering why his friends kept doing this to him.

Lucius relaxed into a smile. "Come on, you'll like Harfang's."

Severus remembered the shop with the drawn shades and tripped along uneasily to keep up with his friend. "Isn't this street a bit...Look, I'm not allowed down here, and I'm not sure I trust shops where I can't see in the windows."

Lucius glanced over his shoulder at him and smirked. "If you couldn't see in the windows, that probably means the shop is closed. Harfang owns Obscurus Books too. He only runs the shop as a hobby so it has short hours."

Severus was intrigued in spite of himself. Obscurus had published some of his favorite books. As Lucius had implied the shades were open, though the windows were so dingy it was still hard to make out the contents of the small shop. Lucius did not pause but twisted the knob and strode inside. A bell rang to announce them. The narrow shop was divided into two rows of shelves. Severus was delighted to see the row before him was filled with thick old books. The second row seemed to hold a variety of curiosities, but his eyes were already fixated on a copy of Moste Potente Potions.

"Ah, Lord Malfoy," a grey haired wizard in stately green robes and a top hat greeted them. "Come in boys. I normally don't allow children in my shop, but I know the Malfoys keep good company."

Lucius smiled with amusement, clearly enjoying the title. "Thank you, Lord Longbottom."

The older gentleman winced, "Please, I prefer Lord Harfang. Longbottom is an unfortunate surname."

Lucius chuckled and casually made his way through the curios aisle. Severus could not leave the books and began running his eyes over the spines. "Are you really a Lord?" Severus asked when he felt the shop owners eyes on him.

"Not in the traditional sense," said Harfang in a good humor. "But haven't heard? All you need to do these days to adopt the title is keep calling yourself Lord until other people pick it up."

Lucius chuckled more softly this time, and Severus knew he was missing some joke. Not to be left out he said, "Could I be Lord Severus, then?"

The shop keeper looked at him shrewdly and shook his head. "Lords never ask for their title. Besides if you're going to give yourself a rank, you may as well go for a grand one. Prince Severus sounds better, don't you think?"

Severus grinned and let his curtain of hair fall to hide his blushing face. "What am I Prince of?"

"The Aisle of Books," said Lucius, peaking around the corner at him. "Anything catch your fancy?"

Severus could only offer a breathless grin in response. He could happily die here. Every book called to him. Occluding the Mind; Animagi; Stürmen Sie Hersteller; Unbreakable Enchantments; Resurrection Spells; Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration;...

"Do you have anything on vampires?" he asked Harfang. "Something accurate and not romanticized?"

Harfang pulled himself away from the store counter to slide a black bound book with a one inch spine and worn edges off the shelf and handed it to Severus. The title was pressed into the cloth cover and stenciled in faded silver. The Dark Creature Rituals. "Nothing romantic in there," Harfang promised. "Most technically accurate description of a vampire transformation that you'll find though."

Severus flipped through the book reverently. Thankfully there were no illustrations, but there was a chapter on vampires. Also chapters on Dementors; Golems; Kappas; Basilisks; Ghosts, Poltergeists, & Boggarts; Banshees; Quintapeds; and Runespoors. He skimmed a few sentences and found it properly academic. "How much?"

Harfang took two Sickles for the book and returned to the counter to wrap up the fragile and beautiful little bottle Lucius was purchasing. "What is that?" Severus asked.

"Opaleye Tears," Lucius told him, and Severus felt his breath catch.

"Very rare," Harfang said, then smirked. "Well, perhaps I should say rare to find anyone who can bottle them, and rarer still to get a customer who can afford them. I do enjoy your visits Lord Malfoy."

Lucius gave him a smug smile. "Not quite the den of darkness you were expecting?" he remarked to Severus as they left. Severus shook his head, still having trouble tearing his eyes away from the pocket where he knew the Opaleye Tears were tucked away. "Trust me, again?"

Severus nodded. "Why'd Harfang set up shop in Knockturn if he doesn't specialize in Dark Arts?"

"Cheaper rent," answered Lucius. "And don't confuse dark with obscure or unusual. Very few spells are truly evil."

oOo

* * *

oOo

Persephone's absence from the Quidditch match did not trouble Severus. She was terrified of brooms and Bludgers. She had forced herself to endure a few matches when Lucius first made Quidditch Captain, but they made her so nervous he had soon ordered her to stay in the common room. He was more troubled by Draco's absence and the appearance of both plus Remus Lupin towards the end of the match.

Later Persephone confirm he had come to speak to her. "Why didn't you tell me Remus had been a teacher too? I wish he was teaching now. He's such a sweetheart."

He grumbled to Dumbledore about it, only to learn Remus had pieced things together on his own. This troubled him for other reasons.

There was little he could do about it, so he tried to focus on his work. His seventh year students had drafted their initial proposals for their individual potions experiments. It was his favorite set of lessons as he enjoyed the mix of methodology and creativity. The initial proposals usually provided him some entertainment. He hid from Persephone in the teacher's lounge to avoid interruption while he perused them.

Pansy Parkinson wanted to experiment with love potions of all things, absolutely not. Draco Malfoy wanted to try putting Draught of Living Death in pill form, that was clever. Hermione Granger wanted to improve the potency of Wolfsbane with an interest in working it towards a cure. She might actually pull that off in fifty years. He wondered if Lupin would volunteer for methodical experimentation.

Severus wished he had done something as ground breaking as Wolfsbane. Most of his published work had consisted of minor improvements to existing potions. The Ministry had been ridiculously stubborn about letting him teach from his own textbook, so he had circumvented them by teaching from the blackboard. The official potions text was horrendously out dated. Maybe if he retired, they'd let him publish his textbook. For his legacy, he could be the bane of students for generations to come.

Harry Potter, who had probably never opened a textbook in his life, had also ignored his rather pointed advise not to take the assignment lightly. He wanted to improve the taste of Polyjuice, which made Severus wonder when and why he had ever tasted the stuff. He scanned his mind for people acting in unusual ways that made more sense if Potter was imitating them, but nothing specific came to mind. The proposal read like Potter had seen the ingredient list of the complex potion many years ago and only half-remembered them.

Persephone's ire with her nephew had faded, though she seemed disinterested with him now, which suited Severus just fine. He was trying to like Harry for her sake, but it was difficult. The boy had stolen from him, spied on him, blamed him for Sirius's death, and never even given him half a thank you for the fifty times he had saved his life. What irked Severus the most was how casual Potter was with his lessons, rare spikes of concentration told him that Potter was capable of far more than this half-baked attempt.

With a sigh, he pressed on to more studious students. Padma Patil wanted to try to improve the potency of Wit-Sharpening Potion by trying slight variations in the stages of brewing, predictable but permissible. Indigo Stump wanted to try blending Veritaserum with a Babbling Beverage to see if it could produce spontaneous poetry in the drinker, useless but inventive. Daphne Greengrass wanted to...no that was worse than the love potion. Severus wondered, not for the first time, what was wrong with that girl. She had had enough sense to write a second proposal option involving burn-healing paste. He quickly made a _First Option Unacceptable, Second Option Approved_ note at the top of the scroll.

Shuddering he tossed her proposal aside and unrolled Neville Longbottom's. Longbottom's essays were generally better than his class work, though rarely more than a barebones approach to the assignment. Severus was completely taken aback by the detailed and passionately written proposal on grafting Fanged Geraniums onto honking daffodils to increase the potency of their seeds for Nerve Regenerative Potions. There were detailed illustrations on the process, Herbological explanations on why he thought the grafting might improve seed potency, and lengthy notes on the current limits of Nerve Regeneration. Professor Snape reread the scroll several times to fully absorb its nuances.

It was far simpler than the sort of thing Hermione Granger was proposing, but its simplicity made it far more likely to produce results. Sprout had bragged on Neville's Herbology talents a few times. But she was a kind woman, and Severus had just thought she was being kind to the hapless boy. This however showed that he had dismissed him too quickly. Severus decided he owed it to Pomona to share this with her. He leaned back in his chair and allowed a smile mixed with chagrin. This was the Neville Longbottom that could pull an O on his Potions O.W.L. It was nice to finally meet him.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Severus had been unable to wait until May for her birthday and gave Persephone the book he had bought her on the train to Hogwarts. She repaid him with a smile and a tight hug and spent the entire ride devouring it, starting with the chapter on vampires. He considered it a good investment of his Sickles and spent his time on the train reading ahead in his Arithmancy textbook.

oOo

* * *

oOo

He averaged one letter per week from Oliver. They rarely discussed them, but he caught her delight when she received one at the breakfast table.

_Dearest Persephone, _

_ I thought you would like to know that Mary and John have started dating. _ _She likes him better now that he has learned to be serious._ _The winter is starting to settle in all around us. The lake has yet to ice over, but it will. The trees have lost their color._

_ Rumors reached me that Andrew has become engaged to your friend Delilah. Gossip travels faster than owls here. I suppose if it's true he'll write me about it eventually, or perhaps I'll just read about it in the paper. I read the paper daily now, looking for some hint._

_ Mark has been in an absurdly good mood. He's staying with John still, brags about his motorcycle, and the money his rich uncle sent him. Zaccharias tells me they've burned him off the family tree. Him and the uncle both. I don't think my family has a tree to burn me off, but I've come to regard disappointing my parents as a matter of course. Mark's high spirits trouble me. With the dark tidings brought in with the papers, most people have grown more sullen, but it's almost like he's excited by it._

_ He and John stole my book bag yesterday. One of the second years found it hung in a tree this morning. Most of my books were in it, but my favorite quill was missing, the one you gave me. I know they stole it, because John was using my quill in class. I recognized it by the splay of the barbs, but he refused to return it. I am afraid I made a spectacle of myself trying to get it back. Detention with Sabers again. I don't care. I just want my quill. Hang the quill. It won't bring you back._

_ Mary gives me a pitying look whenever she sees me._

_ Simon met me in town last weekend. He said the Hunting Club is getting popular and I ought to consider joining, but I don't care much for hunting. I think Andrew may be a member. He has been busy with something besides an engagement. I wish he would write me. Simon told me Jezebel found a Muggle man sneaking around her garden. He claimed he was there because she fascinated him, and he wanted to be close to her. So she granted his wish and turned him into a birch tree. I admit anyone dimwitted enough to stalk Jezebel will serve the world better as a tree. I wonder what would have happened if her husband had discovered him._

_ I don't mean to disparage Andrew. He's caught up in the adult world of business and marriage and can't be expected to devote his free time to old school chums. I hope he is marrying Delilah, and they can be happy. I can't think of two people better suited to each other. He's offered to find me a position after graduation, but I don't know if I'm suited to his world. I have trouble concentrating sometimes._

_ I was thinking the other day about that time we played Gobstones. The world seemed to consist of you, me, and a circle on the ground with little stones in it. It's still a dumb, smelly game, but I miss the world being simple._

_Love,_

_Oliver_

oOo

* * *

**End Notes:**

1. A rod is a measurement of 16.5 feet, which dates back to ancient Rome though it still has some modern use. Snape knows this because he's a bigger nerd than I am.

**Next Chapter: **Severus find himself at the mercy of Pansy Parkinson, another article causes trouble, the silly ideas of teenage girls, a first kiss, Persephone's gift, and a trip to the Headmaster's office.


	6. The Winter

**Severus Snape and the Last Year**

By Carla Lute

**Notes: **If you want to go with the zippered, semi-chronological reading of the Last Year levels, you would read Level 3.6 right after Level 1.5: The Thing Hermione Saw (aka Chapter 12).

Special Thanks to Imbeni for beta testing.

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on the Harry Potter novels written by J.K. Rowling. All characters created by J.K. Rowling are owned by J.K. Rowling. The few characters created by me (i.e. Persephone, Hotchet, Kagome…) belong to me, but are available for use in other fics as long as I get credited as their creator. None of us are making any money off this and no infringement is intended.

* * *

oOo

**Level 3.6: The Winter**

The weather had begun to right itself. November had grown cold.

"Severus?" Persephone said as she hovered nervously in the door to his office. He motioned for her to come inside, and she stepped in far enough to close the door. "Draco says you can't write me anymore. Pansy recognized your handwriting, and he—he explained it to her somehow. But he's afraid someone else will figure it out."

Severus came around to the front of his desk and stopped to recline against it. He felt very foolish for having neglected to disguise the handwriting and did not like being at the mercy of Pansy Parkinson. "How did he explain it?"

"Pansy said everyone knew I had been spending time in your office." She lowered her head as though embarrassed but peaked up to check his reaction. "I told her I was taking remedial potions, but she didn't believe it so Draco told her that I had a traumatic experience and you were talking me through it."

His clever ally. "It's close enough to the truth."

Persephone smiled and for some reason a touch of pink was creeping onto her cheeks. "That's what I said. But Draco, he um—he thought we had been snogging." The pink on her cheeks grew more pronounced.

Severus raised an eyebrow but made no other moves. "You corrected him?"

She nodded vigorously and reached a hand up to twist her purl hair around her fingers, still watching him. He understood how Draco's teenage mind had come to that conclusion. He wanted to cross the room and snog her, but clearly that was not something they would be able to keep private.

"No more letters, then," he said.

Persephone nodded again, though he caught the hint of disappointment. She shuffled her feet awkwardly and dropped her hand from her hair to adjust her school bag. "You know Daphne has a crush on you too."

Severus rolled his eyes, lip curling with distaste. "Too?"

She pursed her lips. "Well, you're um—fanciable. Several of the girls think you have presence."

Severus twitched. He always felt defensive when someone complimented his appearance, too many years of insults to the contrary. Persephone was not one to insult or use false flattery, exaggerated perhaps, but she had a curious view of the world. He slowly registered that she had called him fanciable and could find no response.

"I should probably go," she said. "We're um...we're going to try to come up with a new school song."

"Much needed."

She grinned and quickly dodged out the door to hide her pink face.

oOo

* * *

oOo

"You look good," she had told him once, when Lucius had drafted him to play Seeker for a summer practice and loaned him an old Quidditch uniform he had outgrown. Severus had assumed she was teasing him. He had a thinner frame than Lucius and the green robes had drooped oddly.

Since he was smaller than the others, Lucius had assigned Severus the role of Seeker. During a one-sided practice this mainly involved him flying around and trying not to crash into the other players or get hit by the single Bludger the Beaters were trying to control. In theory, he was chasing the Snitch too, but since practice was not determined by how soon or often he caught it, he spent most of his time making a wide circle around the other players and enjoying the rush of flight.

He had disappointed Lucius by not trying out for the team, but he knew it was better than disappointing him during an actual match. He had no illusions about his skill. Besides, since nearly everyone but Persephone went to watch the games, this bought him a few hours alone with her. She was glad for the company. They usually did homework, but sometimes they explored the empty castle.

James Potter had changed positions on the Gryffindor team. Some kid named Quigley replaced him as Seeker, and James became a Chaser. This had turned out to be a good move for the Gryffindors. James had only been a fair Seeker, but he was an exceptional Chaser. James hit new heights in arrogance and popularity, but this helped Severus slip a little further off his radar.

It was a good year for Severus, but a hard year for Persephone. Narcissa had convinced her to take Divination as an elective, and she had been looking forward to a year of inventing stories for the teacher and giggle over palm lines like the other girls did. The problem was that Persephone actually saw things, and what she saw was not pretty.

She came back from her first lesson white and trembling because she had been partnered with Sirius's little brother Regulus and seen a death omen in his tea cup. Regulus was not too bothered by it. The Divination Master Ignatius Fancourt had not seen anything. They reassured her it was her first day and she was simply reading the cup wrong. Severus, whose precise mother held Divination in contempt, told her the whole fortunetelling business was rot anyway.

It helped that Regulus survived the year, but Severus could not help noticing that several of her minor predictions and off-hand comments were coming to pass. Lucius had picked up the habit of reading the Daily Prophet in the mornings and passing it down the table to Severus when he had finished. In an attempt to sound grown up, he asked her what she thought about the Crouch case. "Oh, he was Imperiused," she said without looking up from her eggs.

"What about Starkey?"

"She's dead. They'll find her soon."

Severus found the statement odd, because she was so dispassionate about it. On impulse, he took out his self-inking quill and wrote _Imperiused_ by Crouch's picture and _Dead_ by Starkey's. Persephone rubbed her temple and asked if he would help her with Arithmancy later.

The following Friday, Elaine Starkey's body was found. "She's dead," said Severus incredulously as he read the headline.

Persephone nodded. "It's a shame about her mother." And took a sip of orange juice. This was too much for Severus. He had the paper angled up and doubted she could even have read the headline.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"Know what?"

He spent the next few weeks watching his friend very closely and questioning his own sanity. He made notes when she complained about her Divination classes, copied her homework for that subject, and wrote down offhand comments that he might have previously dismissed, anything that sounded like it might be a prediction. Some things were impossible to know any time soon. Whether _Narcissa's first born would be a boy_ or _Jeffrey Jakes would live to be one hundred_, were too far in the future to test his theory. Other offhand comments were hard to classify as predictions, _James will be unbearable after Gryffindor wins this game_, only counted by it's lack of an _if_, and since the match was against Hufflepuff may have just been a statement of the obvious. Her insistence that Lucius would make an 'E' on his Transfiguration essay may simply have been encouragement, though Lucius preferred 'O's. _He's going to fall_, shortly before the tall Hufflepuff boy she had been looking at tripped over his own shoelaces, drove Severus to distraction, because she denied having said any such thing.

Still the little evidences that his friend might be a True Seer were adding up. Casper Crouch was acquitted due to testimony from his grandson that he had been acting like someone under an enchantment, and a long list of character witnesses who insisted Casper would never do such a thing. Casper Crouch maintained that he had felt _funny_ after passing a particular ally, and that he had not been in control of his own actions. He held onto his freedom, but as a precaution he was removed from his post in the International Magical Office of Law. Elaine Starkey's mother died from heart failure.

Severus bought a blank journal on their first Hogsmeade weekend, so he could keep track of her predictions. At first he had been determined to use it as evidence, since she either did not remember or dismissed most of things he determined were predictions. But the more it developed, the more her ability seemed to upset her. She returned from her Divination classes in a deep melancholy and recounted the things she had seen in a piteous voice.

A few other people picked up that she had a talent for the subject, though Severus doubted they grasped the extent. Lucius asked her for Quidditch predictions, and Fancourt called her his star pupil.

Witch Weekly made things worse. They had done an article on the Silver Child's birth and wanted to do a follow up. Lucius and Narcissa encouraged her to agree to it, so she did. The reporter interviewed her, her friends, and a couple teachers and took a lot of pictures. Severus did his best to stay out of the photographs, but her third year friends were happy to crowd in with her. She had a few days of minor celebrity when the article appeared. Lucius declared it a nice piece, but Persephone was troubled by it. The reporter had implied the song spell was partly responsible for her popularity, and this idea did not sit well with her.

"I don't see why it should bother you," said Lucius. "Likeability is hardly a curse."

Severus understood. He seemed to have powers of dislikeability and found them equally annoying.

James was completely unbearable. He caught them in the hall with a copy of the article. "Isn't it sweet, Hissy? Everyone loves you."

"Leave her alone," Severus growled at him.

"_I'm_ her brother, Snivellus," James said in arrogant tone. "You're just a little greasy rat she took pity on." Sirius, who was always with him, snickered.

"Fine," said Severus, hoping to get away before this turned into a fight. He placed a protective hand on Persephone's shoulder, hoping to steer her away like he had in Knockturn Ally.

"I believe I said 'no touching', Snivellus," James continued in the same overly proper style. Resisting the urge to punch James in the nose, Severus made a show of removing his hand. Persephone was already depressed, and he hoped humoring James might save her some grief. James had a flicker of uncertainty over this new tactic but soon regained his air of superiority. "That's better. I am your brother, Sephi. Why didn't they interview me?"

"I ask them not to," Persephone answered.

"Why?"

"Because you're a toadwart?"

Severus snickered.

Sirius glowered at them. "She just doesn't want you telling the paper what a little freak she really is." Persephone pushed past James, and Severus followed her.

"Quite likely, Sirius," James continued at a volume they would be sure to hear. "You know I can't even have an owl because of her. Sometimes I think animals are smarter than people."

"I believe they call it animal intuition," Sirius bantered back.

"Explains why you're so clever," Severus shot over his shoulder. Luckily they had turned a corner and dodged through a secret passage, before the other boys sorted out what he had said. Away from the crowd, Persephone could no longer hold in her tears. Severus put an arm around her, and she clung to him and cried into his shoulder. She cried on his shoulder several times that year, usually over things she saw in Divination. Crystal balls were worse than tea leaves, the images she saw in them were so much more clear. She stopped wanting to talk about what she saw, and he was not cruel enough to coax her. He was sorry to see her sad but enjoyed that she turned to him for comfort. He tried not to feel jealous when she sought comforting hugs from Lucius too, though he did find it curious that Lucius was more willing to be publicly familiar with her than any of his girlfriends.

Severus tried to tell himself that Lucius thought of her like a kitten or a child, but she was looking less like a child each day. Not all her experiences in Divination class were deaths and horrors. She came back to the common room from her first day with crystal balls blushing furiously and gnawing on some secret. After dodging a few general questions, Lucius asked directly what she saw, and she shot forward to whisper in his ear. Lucius laughed loudly, while Persephone anxiously watched him for some guidance. "But I don't know what to do with it," she whimpered.

"Don't worry about it," Lucius told her between snickers. "If it's meant to happen it will, and if it won't, it won't. No sense fretting over it. Divination is an entertaining, but rather useless discipline."

"I should have taken Ancient Runes," Persephone muttered as she sat down a little further from Severus than usual and look embarrassed.

"See, if you were a True Seer, you should have known that," Lucius teased her.

Persephone hid her pink face.

oOo

* * *

oOo

"Professor, I'd like to have a word with you," Pansy Parkinson said as she interrupted his Monday morning planning period.

Professor Snape had been dreading this but did his best not to betray that to Ms. Parkinson. He gestured for her to take a seat. Pansy sat with a stiff grace as though settling in for a job interview or negotiation. He could feel his own shoulders sag with guilt and had to fight the impulse to hide behind his hair like he had in his youth. He leaned back in his seat, propping his elbows on the arms to force his shoulders up and lifted his chin.

Sixteen years of teaching and eleven years as the Head of Slytherin House had taught him that bribery and blackmail were not tactics limited to Slytherin, but Slytherins were generally better at them. He kept his expression blank, while Ms. Parkinson gave him an assessing look.

"Draco explained those letters from Oliver are a counseling technique," she said briskly. "But I'm concerned, Professor. If Pea really went through all that shouldn't she be at St. Mungo's or staying with relatives?"

Professor Snape blinked. "She wanted to continue her education."

"I understand," Pansy continued uncertainly. "But if she's unstable...I mean people don't always know what's best for them when they're rattled. And honestly, please don't take this the wrong way, Professor, but aren't you worried she might misinterpret the letters? If she's really lost everyone, she might just cling to whomever's available. I know she's wearing Draco out with her hysterics, and she seems to be demanding a lot of your time as well. And you have so many other students. I realize you have a duty as Head of House, but girls her age can get very silly ideas into their heads."

Professor Snape moved his elbow to his desk and spread his thumb and index finger across his cheekbones in a gesture of thoughtful consideration that also hid the amused twist of his lips. "You raise good points, Ms. Parkinson. If she had elsewhere to go, I might consider that option, though I don't think she's quite bad enough for St. Mungo's. Poppy was able to look after her injuries." All true enough.

Pansy frowned thoughtfully. "And you're talking her through the rest?"

"Yes."

"With packages and letters?"

Severus shifted uncomfortably. He hated lying to his students. Pansy deserved an explanation. Gratingly, he suspected she would be very understanding if he told her the truth, but that option was not open to him. "I knew her parents." True. "I've been acting as a family friend as well as her Head of House, but I did not want to draw undo attention to her situation. That was the main reason for the pseudonym, to avoid confusion." Almost true. "I apologize if it caused you distress."

Pansy pursed her lips and considered him. "I'm sure you meant well, Professor," she said, which he took as her acceptance of the apology.

He had not noticed the box she was holding in her lap until she placed it on his desk. "If you're counseling students, can you please talk to Indigo? I'm a little worried about her as well. I found those in her dresser."

Severus inspected the box and decided not to ask why she was in the other girl's dresser. Prefects were allowed to take a few liberties if they had good reason to suspect rules were being broken. "Puking Pastilles? You were right to confiscate them. The Weasley products are all banned. However, I fear Ms. Stump is far from the first person to use them to skive off classes."

"That's just it, Professor," Pansy said apprehensively. "Indigo _never_ skips class, so what is she doing with them?"

Professor Snape had no answer for her but promised to have a word with Indigo about them.

oOo

* * *

oOo

"Oh," a furiously blushing, unnaturally blonde Indigo squeaked when confronted with the box. "Am I in trouble? I don't use them anymore."

"I should hope not," Professor Snape said, resisting the urge to use Legilimency on her for confirmation. "Why were you using them in the first place?"

She went a little pinker. "I was trying to lose weight."

Professor Snape was completely at a loss. "That's a foolish way to go about it," he said, trying to sound more concerned than intimidating.

"I know," Indigo sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. Distress and embarrassment warred in her expression. "Blaise told me. He caught me...I tried more normal ways. I was simply eating less. That's how I lost weight this summer. But the other girls said I wasn't eating enough and were making me, and I didn't want to get fat again."

Severus really was not cut out to deal with teenage girls, or the very silly ideas they got in their heads. "Ms. Stump, I doubt you have ever been fat, certainly not in the years I've known you." He rubbed his temples. He had been a rather skinny youth himself, though not by deliberation. He had no idea where the line between thin and too thin was supposed to be. "I would like you to talk to Madam Pomfrey."

Indigo whimpered. "I'm fine. Why can't everyone leave it alone?"

Professor Snape shot her an irritated look. "I suppose you'll have to endure the hardship of friends and adults that care more about your well being than your vanity. You're lucky Mr. Zabini caught you and had the presence of mind to say something."

Her expression soften. "Blaise was sweet about it."

"Take him with you to see Madam Pomfrey if you like, but go see her."

Pomfrey worked her magic. Always the picture of discretion she told Severus only that she had ordered Ms. Stump to check in with her once a month. Ravenclaw bested Slytherin in Quidditch. This only bothered Severus because he realized Draco was buying Pansy's silence with his attention, and he would have liked his clever ally to have a victory.

November faded into December. Gladrags sent him Persephone's dress in orange rather than peach, and he sent it back with a note and a color swatch. Figuring he was unlikely to get it back in time for Christmas, he slipped away during the next Hogsmeade weekend and bought her a Charles Dickens novel from a used book shop in a nearby Muggle town. She preferred old books to new ones.

December also brought news of the Americans' intention to start a wizarding college called Moonstone University. They sent him a formal announcement and requested him to recommend a student for their Potions Program. The scholarship they offered would cover four years of study. He thought instantly of Draco. It might be a blatant display of favoritism, but they had given him no specific instructions for his selection. Besides his clever ally was very good at the subject with only Hermione Granger as a rival, and he suspected Ms. Granger was the one who allowed Harry Potter to taste Polyjuice. He owed Draco a favor and wanted him far away from the war. This could get him out of the country for a few years without arousing suspicions or making an enemy of Lucius.

But he had underestimated Draco's fear. "No," his pupil said, after a full minute's consideration. "I appreciate the offer, but I think I'm going to travel after I leave Hogwarts."

Severus understood. Draco was planning to run just like Karkaroff had, which was nearly as dangerous as staying. "There are other options," he said carefully.

Draco shook his head. "Not for me," he said, before bolting out of the office. Severus wished he could tell Draco there was nothing to be scared of, but he hated lying to his students.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Naturally the dress arrived four days after he had bought the book. Severus supposed this was just as well. Oliver's letters were still fresh on Ms. Parkinson's mind, and she would find a book a more appropriate gift from a teacher than a dress. To avoid attention at breakfast, he had the house-elves leave the dress on Persephone's bed without a note. Hopefully it would be a nice surprise. But their missed dance seemed to stir strong melancholy in her, and he thought she might prefer the privacy offered by bed curtains if such feelings overwhelmed her.

Severus had a full day of classes and almost forgotten the gift by the time he dismissed his second year students. He lingered in the classroom, carefully securing their vials into the tray he would carry back to his office and tucking their written homework under his arm.

Persephone met him in the hall. Her smile was bright, and her eyes brimming with delight. She seemed too happy to speak, walking on her toes, and he realized his gift had had the desired effect. He feigned innocence, lifting his eyebrow to give her a questioning look.

She beckoned him closer with her finger, and expecting her usual hug or whispered thanks, he shifted his arm load and bent forward to accommodate. Her fingers slipped around his neck, and her soft lips pressed his. He was too surprised to respond but far from displeased. She was as inexperienced at this sort of thing as he was, but her lips lingered far longer than was necessary for a quick peck of gratitude.

Her fingers caressed his jaw line as she released him, still grinning brightly. His mouth worked in a few futile attempts at speech as he straightened up. "I hardly think that's appropriate," he managed softly. "...while I'm your teacher. You'll get in trouble if you do it again." He might have sounded more convincing if he could stop smiling.

She simply smiled at him and gave a soundless chuckle. He nodded towards his office, and she held the door open for him. He tried to collect himself as he set his load down on his desk, but the blissful happiness erupting in his chest made not smiling impossible. She was still there when he turned back around, looking up at him with a mix of fondness, admiration, and a little hunger. The doubts were all gone.

She stepped closer, and he stretched his hand out to stroke her silver hair. "You know we can't," he said gently. "I have rules to follow too."

She gave him a curious look. "You're always so proper."

"Is that problem?"

"No," she said. Her bright smile had settled into a shy grin. "It's one of the things I like about you."

Propriety demanded he let go of her hair too. He did, but it was difficult.

"You won't always be my teacher, you know," she said, as he moved to put the desk between them. He knew it. He was counting the days.

They made no major variation to their routine. Exams allowed little time in their schedules, but there was a change between them. Her hand settled comfortably in his the next time she came to his office. She stole shy looks at him and smiled more while they traded stories about their classes. Teaching her class was not as awkward as he thought it might be. He could play a part for an hour or so. Besides he felt peaceful now, energized but peaceful.

He was looking forward to the Christmas holidays for a change. Neither of them had anywhere else to be, and they would have no classes to distract them

In the staff room, Minerva told him about some fresh almost-incident between Harry and Draco that she had broken up, but Severus was only half listening. No one had been injured. He had never expected Draco's rescue of Harry's aunt to smooth things over between them. Draco held onto too many secrets.

oOo

* * *

oOo

"But he did have a dragon, sir!" an eleven year old Draco kept insisting, after a furious Professor McGonagall had left them alone in Snape's office. It was well after midnight, and Severus was fighting drowsiness. He did not consider wandering the halls after hours to be the crime Minerva did. A broken rule certainly, but she had not caught Draco in the act of vandalism or in a restricted area of the castle. Severus thought Minerva was a little too quick to dismiss the boy's story about Potter having dragon, though he did have to agree it was a poor excuse to be out of bed.

She had agreed to investigate, while Severus dealt with his own first year. He sat behind his desk, trying to disguise his sleepiness as deep contemplation. Draco misinterpreted his silence as disbelief. "I saw it!"

Severus raised an eyebrow. "When did you see it?"

Draco clamped his mouth shut as though realizing he had said too much and looked guilty. "A few weeks ago," he said in a very small voice. He continued more quickly. "That gamekeeper's hatched it in his hut. Isn't that illegal, keeping a baby dragon?"

"Yes," Severus answered. "It strikes me as curious that Hagrid would show it to you."

Pink crept across Draco's pale cheek. "I saw it through the window. I overheard Potter and his friends say the Hagrid was doing something that would get them in trouble, and I wanted to know what."

"Naturally," Severus drawled. Curiosity was an impulse he could understand, though he wondered if an inexperienced young Draco had mistaken an overlarge lizard or fiery salamander for a newborn dragon. Hagrid did keep an odd assortment of pets, and Kettleburn often got him to tend ailing creatures. "What made you think they would have it inside the castle tonight?"

Draco hesitated again. Reluctantly he reached into his pocket. "This," he said, handing over the letter. Severus unfolded it and read. It was a reply from Charlie Weasley, telling his brother to have the illegal dragon up on the astronomy tower at midnight for pick up. It was damning evidence, and Severus found himself fully awake now. "Why didn't you report this?" he asked Draco slowly.

The pink flush grew darker, and Draco sagged down into an empty chair. "Potter doesn't like me," he said, staring down at his shoes.

"And...?"

"I thought maybe if I kept his secret..." Draco twisted as though something was warring inside him. "He'd give me another chance and..."

"Be your friend?" Severus supplied, not without a hint of annoyance. He had hoped Draco would not suffer from the same mindless Potter worship that had effected many of his classmates.

Draco nodded, looking miserable, and Severus understood the boy realized that he had just undone weeks of ground work. "I just wanted to see it, before it was gone. I thought...I thought they might want some help since Weasley was in the hospital wing."

"If that was a Ridgeback bite, Weasley will be lucky to keep his hand. You should have come to me when you first saw it," Severus said sternly.

"Yes, sir," Draco murmured.

Severus looked up at the clock on the mantle. "If Charlie Weasley's friends were on time, the dragon is long gone now. After I see you to the dorms, I'll find out if Minerva discovered anything."

"She gave me detention," Draco said, glancing at the letter with a hopeful note.

"Which you will serve and be glad she didn't catch you with a dragon."

Draco slumped but nodded. He glanced at the letter again. "Sir, what will you do about that gamekeeper?"

"I'll see that the matter is properly dealt with," said Severus. He walked Draco to the common room entrance and returned to his office. After a few minutes consideration, he threw the letter in the fire and decided to speak to Minerva in the morning.

oOo

* * *

oOo

He was having a more difficult time than he expected giving away the American scholarship. He decided, since Draco had turned it down, it was only fair to offer it to Hermione Granger. Despite the irritation she had given him over the years, she did have the highest marks in the year both in and out of Potions class. He expected her to turn it down. Four years away from Harry Potter probably would not sit well with her, though he thought it might do her some good and intended to give her the holiday to think it over. At the very least, he had expected her to allow him to make the offer.

She glared at him when she turned in the final draft of her proposal and during the exam instructions. He dismissed this as concern over the test or perhaps a reaction to the constructive criticism he had given her the week before. She attacked her exam with intensity, which again was not unusual. Many students had a similar expression, though Draco looked deceptively relaxed as he filled in answers, paying as much attention to his penmanship as the words. Harry Potter alternated between frowning in confusion and quickly filling chunks of parchment with his untidy scrawl. Neville Longbottom was working steadily, his round face tight with concentration.

Professor Snape glanced over the final drafts while the advanced students worked on their exams. Potter had abandoned Polyjuice for Memory Potions, which was far more suited to his limited talent. Longbottom's proposal had changed little from his initial attempt, but he had expanded it with further research. It was the only one among the batch that truly impressed him. There was something snippy about Granger's attempt to integrate his suggestions. Her goal was clear, but she had too many conflicting ideas on how to go about it. Pansy Parkinson had managed to settle on a Beautifying Potion that modified hair color. Severus was tempted to assign her Potter's Polyjuice idea just to see her make use of her intellect, but the month long brewing time made it impractical for a school assignment.

"Time's up," Professor Snape told his students. He flicked his wand, and their exams flew to his desk. "I will have some final notes for you when you return next term to start the practical portion of your experiments. Make sure you have thoroughly read chapter fifteen in your text before you return from holiday, and I would like you to see me in my office after class, Ms. Granger."

"No!" Hermione yelped.

Severus tried to spot something that might explain her startled expression. He saw nothing and decided to give her a chance to clarify or amend. "What did you say?"

"No," she repeated defiantly. "I'm not staying after class." The defiance both annoyed and perplexed him. He could not think of anything he had done lately to incite her ire, except perhaps critique her proposal at a professional rather than student level, but that had been intended as a compliment. He would be well within his rights to dock points or assign detention, but he decided on a more direct penalty.

"Very well, then. Mr. Longbottom, you will stay."

He had the satisfaction of watching confusion flicker across Granger's features before she stalked out with Potter close behind her.

An apprehensive Neville Longbottom followed him into his office. "I enjoyed your theories regarding _Dentatus Pelargonium_. Professor Sprout is optimistic about your chances at a successful grafting."

Longbottom visibly sagged with relief and collapsed into the chair facing his desk. Professor Snape gave him a tight smile. Was he really that terrifying?

He explained the scholarship and told Neville he could take the holiday to think it over. "Any questions?"

"Yes, sir," Longbottom had finally found his voice. "Why me? I know Hermione..."

"I was going to offer it to Ms. Granger, but she didn't seem to want it." Severus doubted she knew why he was calling her into his office, but he had no patience for whatever wrong conclusion she had jumped to this time. Mr. Longbottom looked uncomfortable at his reason, so he continued. "Besides, your proposal was brilliant. It showed good use of integrating material from other disciplines. Ms. Granger has higher marks, but you demonstrate a better understanding of how to blend methodology with the necessary amount of creativity without needlessly complicating the process. And that will take you further in the Potions field."

"I was hoping to be a healer," Longbottom told him nervously.

"You can consult with St. Mungo's," Severus suggested. "But I suspect the extra study and specialization will help you stand out when you apply to their training and apprentice programs."

Longbottom frowned thoughtfully but had no other questions. Professor Snape waved him out of his office.

oOo

* * *

oOo

The train left on Saturday morning, taking most of the Hogwarts population home for the holidays. Persephone caught his eye at breakfast. Intense little Victoria sat across from her. Persephone had practically adopted the Deys. She seemed to have an affinity for Death Eater children. Severus suspected she wanted to rescue them.

Draco had signed up to stay at Hogwarts over holidays as well, which Severus doubted would go over well with his parents but it was probably wiser. Daphne Greengrass was the only other Slytherin to stay over Christmas. Potter and several of his D.A. friends had stayed as well. He had some hope that Draco would be able to speak more freely without so many Slytherin eyes on him.

Minerva was talking to Pomona about the Forum's contest for a new school song. The idea had been generated by Ms. Parkinson, who Severus was starting to wonder if he had been too quick to dismiss. Most of the teachers were very supportive, though Noachian and Dumbledore had expressed a fondness for the old tuneless scolion. Binns, who had encyclopedic knowledge of history, had completely forgotten that Hogwarts had a school song.

He had died during Severus's fourth year. Persephone's class had been the first one he had floated into, giving his students a bit of a shock. It had been a rough year for her.

He slipped away from the Great Hall as soon as he was able and met her down in his office. She hugged him with a "Happy Christmas!", and he decided the holiday spirit allowed him to return the squeeze. He promised her a walk around the lake that afternoon. He had bought a green sweater and pair of black trousers during his stop in the Muggle village, mainly because he thought the outfit might amuse her. It was so cold he had to cover it with his heavy winter cloak, but he wore it all the same. They met just outside the entry hall and walked down to the lake. They were bundled in gloves and scarves. Their breath made white puffs of mist in the air. Within a minute his nose was raw and dry, but still, it was blissful.

He told her about a horribly unsuccessful attempt to search the lake for her. He had had some small fear of the giant squid having taken her. But he could not swim and, in the end, had to rely on Dumbledore's interviews with the merpeople. She placed her gloved hand on his arm and gave it a light squeeze before slipping her hand back in her pocket. It began to snow lightly, and she caught flakes on her tongue.

They managed to return to the castle without meeting anyone except Hagrid, who gave them a jovial wave. Severus gave him a nod, while Persephone returned his wave with a bright smile.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Far more puzzling to Severus than the animosity between Persephone and her bother were the sudden, inexplicable truces. James had stopped by the Slytherin table on the way out of the Great Hall one day and asked, "Hey, Sephi, we're going down to see Hagrid. Want to come?"

"Sure," she had said without a second thought and hopped up to join him, leaving Severus sitting at the table with Avery. Avery developed the habit of sitting near Severus that year, because he was one of the few who would put up with him. He was not a friend, but their mutual unpopularity gave them common ground. Persephone was not fond of Avery, but she was patient with him.

He thought it curious that she got on so well with the groundskeeper when animals reacted so badly to her, but they were both kind hearted people. Lucius had detached from his cloud of Quidditch players and pretty girls long enough to ask where she had gone. He sniffed when Severus mentioned Hagrid. "You know, I caught her chatting with my house-elves once?"

Severus tried to look surprised, even though he was not in the least bit. Lucius seemed to be trying to understand a concept that was beyond him. "She's a bit of child still."

"She's only thirteen," said Severus.

oOo

* * *

oOo

She took a detour to speak to the house-elves in the Hogwarts kitchen while he returned to his office, lit a fire, and arranged two chairs beside it. By the time she joined him, a tray with hot chocolate and a selection of pastries had appeared. Severus remembered the trouble Lucius had had with his own house-elf and smiled to himself. He might have commanded more loyalty from the creatures if he took the trouble to talk to them like Persephone did.

They warmed themselves by the fire, sipping hot chocolate, and laughing over nothing in particular. It took her half an hour to notice his sweater. She reminded him of an old promise to go on a Muggle outing with her, and he told her that was why he had invested in the outfit. That and a desire to expand his wardrobe. She suggested he show up to class one day in lavender robes just to see the students reaction. It was amusing to think about. He would sooner saw off his right arm, but he doubted she was making a serious suggestion.

When her laughter settled, she began a more serious contemplation of what colors might complement his skin tone, which became a reflection that she was completely out of touch with modern fashion, and asked if they had changed that much. He could only admit that he paid no more attention to style now than he had during their student days. However if she wanted to know about advances in potion making, and with that they moved from fashion to Wolfsbane to Remus Lupin to the Order of the Phoenix to Phoenixes to Fawkes to Dumbledore.

"Is he the one who suggested you try teaching?"

"No, not originally," Severus admitted. "The Dark Lord wanted a man at Hogwarts. Lucius recommended me for the job. I was single and reasonably competent. When the Dark Lord was defeated, I thought I might try another trade, but Professor Dumbledore thought it best if I carried on as ordered. He believed the Dark Lord would return, and it kept me in a useful position for both of them. Besides it would allow me to stay close and protect Harry when he was away from the shielding of the blood magic."

Persephone narrowed her eyes at him. "Is that why you resent Harry so much? He kept you here."

Severus opened his mouth but closed it again without speaking. It was too true to deny. Her eyes had not narrowed in anger or annoyance. She was simply seeing through him, inside him, making sense of the tangled briars of his mind. A strange sense of clarity settled over him. Hogwarts had been his home for well over a decade, two if you counted his student career. But it was also his prison. Harry Potter his unwitting jailor. Dumbledore had done enough to earn his loyalty over the years, but Harry had spent a decade as a phantom concept. He had shown up at Hogwarts with James' face and the credit for Lily's sacrifice.

"Do you think you would have become an Auror if not for Harry?"

"I think my involvement with the Death Eaters would have precluded any chance of my being accepted by the Auror's office," Severus sighed. "I don't think I really knew what I wanted to do with myself at that point. Hogwarts was somewhere to go. It was a place to work off my debt."

"Harry is leaving school this year," said Persephone. She took a sip of her second cup of hot chocolate and watched him over the rim.

"I understand he's applying to the Auror's office," said Severus, knowing that was not what she wanted to discuss, but she allowed him the distraction.

"Really?" She grinned. "So Harry wants to be an Auror too?"

Severus shrugged. "Have you forgiven him yet?"

"I suppose," she yawned. "He didn't tell anyone about the boggart, and that's something. James would have told the whole school. And Sirius..." She trailed off looking grim and thoughtful. Severus checked the clock and shooed her off to dinner.

Persephone had a little trouble dodging Daphne and Victoria the next few days. Daphne liked to sleep late, so she came to see him in the mornings. Draco knocked on his door to gain access to the Potions lab, claiming he was getting a head start on his experiment. Severus let him, figuring it was the least he could do. He spent his free time grading exam papers.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Monday morning brought a letter from Narcissa. He opened it at the breakfast table.

_Dear Severus,_

_I am sorry you couldn't join us for Christmas this year. Uncle Lazarus is still continuing with his experiments. You remember the one you helped him with? He's very determined. I'm sure he'll be successful before the year is out, despite the new obstacles._

_I suppose Draco is working hard. I'm rather wounded he didn't come home for Christmas, but I hope he'll keep you company at least. Please, Severus, I'm worried about him. Studiousness is all well and good, but he needs to have a life as well._

_Begonia's daughter has come home with all sorts of curious stories Draco told her about witch hunters in Canada, and some boy named Oliver who writes your new silver child. We've advised her to keep these stories between us, because I think Draco may be having a go at her. Boys can be cruel sometimes._

_I hope you're taking good care of yourself and him. It's so easy to catch cold in this weather. Hogwarts has always been a horribly drafty place. I am very sorry I can't secret you all away for a happy Christmas. Deeply sorry, and hope you understand my regrets._

_Sincerely,_

_N.M._

Severus spent a large portion of the day trying to interpret the letter. The back of his mind kept turning it over even while he graded essays on the hazards of substitute ingredients.

Lord Voldemort was continuing his weather experiments. Narcissa was one of the few people, if not the only person other than Persephone, aware that he had adopted the name Oliver as part of an initials game during his student career. He did not know what Pansy had told them or what Narcissa had told Pansy, but either way, she knew he was Oliver. However she was offering to keep that information to herself. He did not doubt her concern for Draco.

But there was something else in the letter that sounded half like a warning and half like an apology. He had occasionally visited Lucius during the holiday season or attended a party, but the Malfoys usually reserved Christmas Day for family. So he had never received or expected an invitation. And Narcissa rarely apologized for anything...something boded ill.

He had the letter open on his desk when Persephone next came to visit. She discovered it, eyes no doubt drawn to Narcissa's name and scowled as she read. "She's lying," the Silver Child declared. "He stopped those experiments."

"Why would she lie about that?" Severus asked.

Persephone continued to frown thoughtfully and sank down in his chair still holding the letter. "She's trying to lure you back and warn you away at the same time." Persephone dropped the letter back on his desk and rubbed her temples. "There's going to be trouble."

"Anything specific?"

"What?"

Severus bit back a sigh. "Persephone, who took you? Was it Sirius Black?"

Her scowl deepened. "No, and stop asking."

He shrugged. "It was worth a try. He was my top suspect until Draco rescued you, but I thought maybe he had hidden you with the Blacks. Bella..."

"He hated Bella even more than you did," Persephone pointed out.

Severus sat down in the guest chair. "He was far too chipper after you were gone."

"Probably happy to have James all to himself," said Persephone. "No one else was happy when I was gone?"

"Not that I recall," said Severus, memories of that time were a confused blur. "Narcissa was nearly as distraught as I was. Lucius was furious. No one else was handy so he blamed Dumbledore, even considered sending Draco to Durmstrang to avoid him."

Persephone gave him a bewildered look. "But that's ridiculous. Dumbledore?"

"I don't mean he thought he took you," Severus explained. "But he thought the Headmaster had been negligent to let a student vanish under his watch."

"That's a bit unfair. He's not omniscient," said Persephone.

"He was too quick to write you off as a victim of the Death Eaters," Severus watched her carefully for a reaction, but she caught on and shot him an annoyed look instead. "I'll stop asking when you tell me."

"I want to tell you," she murmured softly, but she did not. He let it go for more pleasant subjects.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Severus rarely looked forward to Christmas, but this year was an exception. He found himself humming as he wrapped her present. His students skipped breakfast to spend the morning in the dormitory, but Severus still had a nice conversation with the venerable headmaster over the morning meal. Dumbledore loved Christmas, and he was pleased to find Severus in an uncommonly good mood. They went into a review of Christmas legends. Severus only had a passing familiarity with them, but the headmaster enjoyed the audience.

They were at it so long, it was nearly time for lunch when they left the Great Hall. Severus had sworn off work for the day, so he spent the next hour digging out the Muggle Chess set Persephone had bought him years ago. The Wizard's Chess pieces would never listen to her, so it was the only way they could play. He set it up on his desk, lit a fire, and reviewed the rules, which were essentially the same but did not take into consideration stubborn pieces.

Persephone knocked on the door to his office with anxious eyes and wringing hands. "We have a problem," she said, before he could ask what the matter was. "Promise you won't be angry with me."

"A promise always asked for when hardest kept."

"It's something Harry's friend, Hermione Granger said...she, um, she made a sort of veiled reference to Lolita and um..." Persephone was shifting from white to pink while she cringed.

Severus blinked. "Lolita?"

"Oh, it's, uh...it's a Muggle book," Persephone explained. "It, um, well, oh mon. I think she thinks there's something rather sinister going on with us, and I'm worried it's my fault. Draco keeps saying it's my fault she doesn't trust him, and now..."

"Well, I'm sure it's a little hard for her to believe you're Harry's aunt," said Severus, trying to sort things out in his mind. "I assume he told her."

Persephone cringed again. "I'm sure he would it's just...I haven't—I haven't exactly told Harry who I am yet."

Severus stared at her. "Persephone?"

"I know! I know I was supposed to. I just...it never seemed like the right time, and I wanted more time with you." She looked up at him apologetically, hoping the last bit might sooth some of his irritation with her. She was a Slytherin.

But so was Severus. While some small part of him purred contently, he refused to let her see it. He allowed the excuse to boil up some disappointment and stepped into his Head of House role. Professor Snape was not pleased. "We're going to see the headmaster, now."

Persephone nodded guiltily and followed him out of the office. He walked quickly, forcing her to jog to keep up. He was not truly angry, but he knew Albus would be displeased. Potter and his friends had a bad habit of jumping to conclusions when they lacked facts.

In minutes they were at Dumbledore's door. The headmaster welcomed them inside. "Happy Christmas, Severus, Persephone. What brings you to my office?"

Persephone hung back nervously, so Severus answered for her. "Persephone just confessed to me that she has yet to properly introduce herself to Harry. I believe this may have lead to some wild speculations on the part of Potter and his friends and might explain a bit of rudeness I received from Ms. Granger last week. I think as long as this has dragged out. We might need you to clear things up with Mr. Potter."

A cloud settled over Dumbledore's expression. Persephone shuffled uncomfortably under his sharp gaze. Instead of rebuking her further, the headmaster walked over to his fireplace and used a pinch of floo powder to call down to McGonagall. "Minerva, please send Potter, Weasley, and Granger up to my office." After Professor McGonagall had acknowledged him, Dumbledore conjured five chairs in a line before his desk and asked them to sit down. Severus settled into the chair at the left end of the row. Persephone sat beside him.

"Are you angry with me, Headmaster?" Persephone asked.

"I'm not pleased," said Dumbledore. "Toffee? But hopefully no true harm has been done. I should have called a meeting like this when I discovered you had not revealed yourself to Harry right away. I suppose secrets can be addicting, but I do wonder what prompted today's confession. Christmas spirit?"

Persephone winced. Her hand trembled as she reached into the candy bowl. "Not exactly, sir. Hermione Granger said..." She glanced anxiously at Severus. "Well, she said something not so nice."

"Apparently, Mr. Malfoy thinks Persephone's lack of communication has bred some distrust," Severus explained. "Should I call him up here too?"

"No," Dumbledore said. "I think we'll be giving Harry quite enough to consider for one day, and I want to speak freely with him."

They waited a few minutes for the Gryffindors to arrive. Severus contemplated whether he should say anything more than vouch for Persephone's identity, while she played nervously with her fingers. Dumbledore directed the three students into seats when they appeared and settled into the high backed chair behind his desk. "I am disappointed in you three," he began.

"In us?" Granger gawked.

The headmaster gave her admonishing glance. "Yes, Ms. Granger, in you." Severus wondered what Dumbledore's favorites had done to upset him and soon got his answer. "Harry, I do not completely understand your reasons for lying to me, but I hope we will be able to set everything right. Ms. Granger you have been unduly rude to Professor Snape. I'm sure you also had your reasons, but you are still a student and bound by the protocols of this school."

Granger swelled as though planning a rebuttal, but a stern look silenced her.

Weasley coughed. "And, what did I do, sir?"

The headmaster gave him a tight smile. "Nothing, as far as I know, Mr. Weasley, but it seemed more efficient to include you."

"Right."

Dumbledore folded his hands. "Before we get started, I think you should apologize to Professor Snape, Ms. Granger, and I understand you said something rather upsetting to Persephone as well."

"Me? Apologize?"

Severus felt he had already punished Ms. Granger enough for that incident, and preferred to skip on to the explanation. "Headmaster, I don't think-"

"Quiet, Severus," Dumbledore said gently. Disrespect to staff members was a pet peeve of his. "Ms. Granger, I understand you have been under a great deal of pressure lately but that does not excuse rudeness. I would like for you to calm down."

"Calm down?" fumed Granger, who was doing the opposite. "Do you know-"

The headmaster spoke evenly. "Right, now I need you to listen-"

"I will not!"

Severus kept his expression bland. He was both bemused and somewhat gratified to see Granger unleash her temper on the headmaster. It was nice for Albus to see proof that he was not exaggerating.

Dumbledore stood up. "Ms. Granger, I expected better of you, but if-"

"I saw him kiss her!"

Severus felt his elbow slip off the arm of the chair, as a stream of profanity ran through his mind. Ms. Granger was glaring accusations at him. He understood exactly what she had seen and the course her imagination had run. She must have walked up from behind him and found an incriminating scene before her. He had bent forward, which may have looked like anticipation rather than surprise from her angle, and she would have seen him follow up by inviting the girl into his office. This he could understand. What flabbergasted and disgusted him was that she must of thought he was offering a similar invitation to her.

Before he could form words or fully coherent thoughts. Persephone jumped to his defense. "He did not!" Granger was steadfast, so Persephone appealed to Dumbledore. "I kissed him, Professor. He had done something very nice for me, and I was grateful. I know I shouldn't have, but you know my situation."

Severus sank into his own embarrassment as they argued. This was not the way he would have liked to introduce the concept to Persephone's only remaining relative. He was disturbed that such things could be believed of him and that he had provided the evidence for it to be believed. Granger was bad enough, but if some younger student had rounded the corner, or Ms. Parkinson or Ms. Greengrass...poor little Victoria who was so dependent on the both of them. He stomach churned.

"Persephone, that's enough," Dumbledore said gently. "This is all making a little more sense now." The headmaster glanced his direction, and Severus wished he could sink through the earth. "I think we can clear much of it up with a simple introduction."

"An introduction?" Again it was Granger that spoke. Potter had been uncommonly quiet.

"Persephone, if you would introduce yourself properly."

She did. Potter stayed silent though his friends reacted with the expected surprise.

"What's this got to do with, Snape?" asked Weasley.

"Severus was my best friend when I was at Hogwarts before."

"You're kidding." Weasley again.

"I'm afraid she's not," said Dumbledore and told them the story of Persephone's disappearance. They were reasonably skeptical.

"How do you know she is who she says she is?" asked Granger, calm now but still wary.

"I certainly considered the possibility that Voldemort might be trying to reach Harry by resurrecting a dead family member," said Dumbledore. "I had Madam Pomfrey employ a number of tests to verify her identity. Beyond that however, it would be very difficult for someone to reproduce all the effects of Persephone's condition."

Severus only half listened to their hare brained theory that Persephone was capable of mental manipulation, though he was a little surprised Dumbledore did not entirely dismiss it.

"It is my belief that Persephone has the effect of a living, breathing Cheering Charm," the headmaster explained. "And whether by intent or instinct she uses this ability to her full advantage. But I have seen no evidence to support that she can convince anyone to do something against their will." Severus turned this theory over in his mind. It was not inconsistent with what he observed and felt, but like Persephone, he found it distasteful to dismiss her charms as purely magical in nature. She was kind. She _listened_. Sometimes she understood him better than he understood himself. He knew Dumbledore's words had hurt her, but given the earlier accusation, he did not dare make any gesture to comfort her.

"Now, if you four would step outside for a moment and get reacquainted, I would like to have a word with Professor Snape." With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore sent their chairs out the door, and the four students followed behind them.

Severus wanted to disapparate, but he was trapped.

Albus folded his hands and gave him an assessing look. "I would have an easier time accepting your innocence if you didn't look so guilty, Severus." He spoke gently, but Severus did feel guilty.

"I love her," he admitted.

"I know," Dumbledore said softly. "But I also need to know how my teachers are conducting themselves. I've been placing a lot of trust in you by not interfering with these office visits."

"It was an isolated incident," Severus reassured him. "And I did tell her not to do it again."

"But you want her to?"

Severus's heart twisted in his chest. "Of course I—twenty years, Albus! Twenty! And to have her so close now...what do you expect of us?"

There was pity in Dumbledore's eyes but no sympathy. "I expect her to act like a teenage girl, who has lost her parents and wants to cling to the last friend from her old life. I expect you to act like a Hogwarts teacher."

Severus shifted uncomfortably in his chair. His inside were writhing in protest. "It's not fair."

Dumbledore's beard twitched and not with amusement. "She's sixteen, Severus."

"She was born only a year after I was," he countered petulantly. "You could just as easily argue that she's thirty-six."

"I understand why you want her to be," Dumbledore was still speaking calmly, though he looked stern. Severus could hear the exasperation crawling underneath. "She should be. But the Ministry, all the magical measures..."

"Her body is sixteen," Severus conceded. "But her mind—it kept going. She was trapped in a painting for _twenty years_. How can a sixteen-year-old be anywhere for twenty years?"

"I'm not so sure she was," Dumbledore sighed, and Severus looked at him incredulously. "I've been studying her enchantment, that is to say the magic I believe was used to preserve her. The painting was intended to keep objects preserved from the ravages of _time_. I don't believe she experienced a full twenty years. If she had, she should be quite mad now."

"So she has a stronger mind than most...She had dreams, conversations, she told me she could move inside it," Severus spoke quickly, trying to lay out all the evidence. "Some time, something like time passed for her. She's more mature now."

"Perhaps..."

Severus clenched his fists to hold back his anger. "She thinks of herself as thirty-six, Professor. She..."

"Is a student."

Severus could not argue that. He slouched miserably. "I haven't forgotten."

"You say you love her. Severus, have you thought, really thought about what a relationship with her now would mean?" Dumbledore's blue eyes pierced him. "Not just for you. For the school? The Order? For her? I can't ignore a relationship between a teacher and a student."

"We haven't broken any rules."

"But you're on the verge."

Severus scowled at him. "She'll be seventeen soon, even by Ministry standards. I can wait."

"And what then?" Dumbledore asked him, brow furrowed with concern. "Being frank, Severus, Persephone's always looked young. You may see a woman, but she could pass as a fourth year. And you...well, one of the reasons I was comfortable letting you take a teaching position so young is that aura of maturity that's well beyond your years. Ten years from now it won't make such a difference, but at the moment you're more likely to be taken for her father than her husband. I wish I could say society would be kind to you, but few will give you time to explain yourself."

Severus felt his face flush as anger coursed through him. It was chased by a cold rush of despair, and he hid his face in hands while he tried to find some balance. For a few days, he had managed to forget the rest of the world, and the future had seemed so perfect. He dropped his hands to clutch the arms of the chair. "I still love her," he said helplessly. Albus Dumbledore was such a champion of love. Why could he not understand?

There was sympathy is Dumbledore's eyes now. "Then do what's best for her," he said softly.

Severus said nothing. Dumbledore flicked the door open with his wand. "Persephone, please come in here." She did, and her chair followed her. He continued once the door had closed. "Persephone, you've put Professor Snape in a very awkward position. You don't want to cause him trouble, do you?"

"No," she said intently.

"I understand Professor Snape was your friend. But you must understand you are in a new situation now. He is a teacher and your head of house, and if you are to remain at Hogwarts, you must treat him as such. You were lucky it was Ms. Granger and not another student who saw you, but you should not have given her anything to see. Gossip flies faster than lightning at Hogwarts and can leave lasting damage to a man's reputation. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir."

"I'm glad to hear that. Severus cares very deeply about you, and I believe that leaves him more vulnerable to that natural manipulation I spoke of earlier. So you need to think more carefully about the consequences before you act, for him as well as yourself."

"Yes, sir." Severus did not dare look at her, but there was a different note in her voice he could not interpret.

"Very well, I think we've been neglecting Harry too long. You're free to go, Severus. Please think about what I said."

Severus did not dare speak. He stalked out with as much dignity as he could muster past the Gryffindors in the hall. Embarrassment and indignation were threatening to overwhelm him. Not wanting to face anyone else, he returned to his apartment, jabbed his wand at the fire place to set it ablaze, and collapsed into his arm chair. He put his wand out of easy reach and watched the flames eat through the logs and kindling. He hated Christmas.

oOo

* * *

**Author's Note:** I picture the wizarding world as culturally about 100 years behind in a lot of ways. No, Severus does not deal with his students' problems in an ideal way. He's fumbling along as best he can with very limited training.

**Next Chapter: **Narcissa...


	7. Narcissa

**Severus Snape and the Last Year**

By Carla Lute

**Notes: **If you want to go with the zippered, semi-chronological reading of the Last Year levels, you would read Level 3.6 right after Level 2.8: The Music Box (aka Chapter 13).

Special Thanks to Imbeni for beta testing. Go poke him to write more Neville for me.

Oh and erm...didn't end up getting to that second kiss or the boggart in this chapter after all. Instead I bring you butterflies, melodrama, and angst. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on the Harry Potter novels written by J.K. Rowling. All characters created by J.K. Rowling are owned by J.K. Rowling. The few characters created by me (i.e. Persephone, Hotchet, Kagome…) belong to me, but are available for use in other fics as long as I get credited as their creator. None of us are making any money off this and no infringement is intended.

* * *

oOo

**Level 3.7: Narcissa**

The days that followed held all the pains of withdrawal as Persephone forsook his company to spend time with her nephew. The first day Severus locked himself away from everyone in his room and brooded over what had been said in Dumbledore's office. He would have liked to say he was thinking or giving it careful consideration, but brooding was a more accurate term.

His insomnia returned, which meant longer waking hours trapped with his thoughts. He forgot to eat, which was his habit when depression took him. He tried to reassure himself that the absence was temporary. Naturally she needed time with her nephew before the other students returned. Naturally the headmaster's words had worried her. It was likely she thought her avoidance would protect him. He tried to take comfort in this, but he still felt like precious days had once again been stolen from them.

He forced himself to attend breakfast the second morning. It was important to keep up appearances, and his stomach growled angrily at him.

Persephone was alone at the Slytherin table with the Dey children. The seventh years must have slept in again. He tried to look at her the way a stranger might. She did have a young face, though her hair might counter balance that. Most people associated silver with age. She was short, but her figure was as well developed as any of her classmates, more a woman's than a child's. Though it was often obscured under robes and other pieces of loose fitting clothing, this morning she was wearing a striped sweater someone else must have given her and her Muggle blue jeans. He could see the curve of her hip and wanted to touch her so badly it ached.

He forced himself to concentrate on his eggs. Severus knew she was capable of cloaking herself in an aura of maturity. There was something motherly in the way she smiled at Thomas and patted Victoria's hand. But she did have a tendency to slip into very childlike mannerisms when she was nervous or excited.

A small box dropped beside his golden plate, and Severus looked up to see Draco's eagle owl, Oberon, steal a piece of bacon before flapping off. The box was wrapped in polka dot paper with a magenta ribbon. There was no note. It contained a single crystalline ornament. Severus placed the delicate butterfly on his palm, and he knew the gift was from Persephone.

"That's very pretty," Dumbledore said pleasantly.

Severus closed his fingers protectively around the ornament. "Late Christmas present," he said and slipped it back in the box. Persephone was looking up at him with timid eyes, trying to see if he understood the message. He did but allowed only the tightest, brief smile with the headmaster watching.

oOo

* * *

oOo

His fifth year had been hard for him. The outside world had become darker. Tensions between the houses were high, and the bullying inside Hogwarts had gotten worse. Lucius was often too busy to defend him. Avery and Regulus spent too much time around him. Beyond this he seemed to be at constant war with his own insides. He felt angry more often than he should. His body never seemed to do what he told it, and other boys had started flirting with Persephone.

He did not think she deliberately encouraged this behavior, but she was too friendly. Boys saw it as an invitation. She followed him outside one day early in May, when he went to hunt caterpillars for Potions class. It was easy work. They were everywhere. She laid down in the tall grass while he dropped to his knees beside the low bushes that grew near the lake. Nearby saplings allowed them some dapple shade.

The weather was beautiful. Everything was in bloom, which threatened to excite his allergies. Persephone was lying on her side, head cradled on her elbow. Her silver hair fell around her like a halo, while her school robes modestly covered her form. "Do you think anyone will ask me to the leaving dance?"

"Probably," he said as he pried one of the fuzzy creatures off a leaf and dropped it into his jar.

"Has anyone asked you?"

Severus let out a bitter laugh at this idea. "Everyone in my year hates me."

"Really?" Her voice was skeptical, but the warm sun and cool breeze had made her lazy. "I suppose that's a form of popularity. Why do you think they hate you?"

"Other than your brother cursing me every chance he gets? The girls look at me like I'm some sort of fungus or cockroach. They won't sit by me if they can avoid it. Even the ones in Slytherin."

"Why would they do that?" she asked, sounding like she genuinely could not fathom it.

"Probably because I'm smarter than they are." This phrase reminded him that he might be exaggerating a bit but brought to mind a different frustration. Besides he was trying to goad a kind word out of her.

"That's very modest of you. You think they're jealous?" He glanced back to see there was a lazy grin tugging at her lips.

"I'm not bragging," he scowled. "It's like we speak a different language. They don't understand me, and I don't understand them. Most of the time they ignore me. Avoid me like I have a disease. They probably wouldn't care if I died."

Her silver eyes narrowed, assessing him. "You're like a caterpillar," she declared without lifting her head.

"What do you mean by that?"

"You're crawling now, but there's a butterfly inside you."

Severus stared down at his peculiar friend while trying to decide if that was a compliment. "A butterfly?"

"Mm-hm, you're going to be beautiful when you grow up. Absolutely spectacular. Shock them all. Un papillon."

Severus could feel himself blushing so he turned his face away. "Most caterpillars become moths, you know," he said just to be difficult.

Persephone must have rolled up, because her arms slipped around his middle to squeeze him. He felt her chin rest on his shoulder and heard her soft voice in his ear. "I know. But you're going to be a butterfly."

He felt his face grow hot and looked down at the wriggling collection in his jar. He was frightened of feeling this happy, so he retreated to his sarcasm. "So what you're really saying is that I'm a useless, ugly, little worm right now." His voice seemed to want to change in the middle of the sentence.

Persephone laughed. "What's useless about being a caterpillar? I could always chop you up and put you in a potion."

"You won't get a butterfly that way," he said. He considered dumping the caterpillars back onto the bush where he had collected them, to make more butterflies for her, but he was a pragmatic. He did need them for Potions class. Persephone's arms slipped away, but she sat close and smiled at him.

oOo

* * *

oOo

He placed the butterfly ornament on his bedside table that evening and laid down on his bed to stare at it. He understood the message, but he did not feel like a butterfly. At best he was an old moth. More often he felt like the ghost of a caterpillar that had been chopped up and stirred into something unpleasant.

Still, if there was anyone on earth who could bring out beauty in him, it was her. Dumbledore was being ridiculous. He could control himself. He had been doing so for four months now. They would have to wait. He knew that. Perhaps it was better to wait until she was eighteen rather than seventeen, but he had considered that before too. Ms. Granger had rattled him into sounding impatient.

He would be forty when she turned eighteen.

Unable to sleep, he decided to share his insomnia with the headmaster but discovered there was no need to wake the old wizard. Albus Dumbledore was on his way downstairs for a hot chocolate. Severus met him on his way up the grand stair case and fell into step beside him as they descended to the kitchens. They took their mugs and a plate of biscuits the house-elves had forced on them into the staff room and lit the fire.

"The Potters seem to be getting on well enough now they've been introduced," Dumbledore said conversationally.

"Yes," Severus said dryly. They had both watched Persephone greet her nephew with a very eager, very public hug in the Great Hall that morning. There was a part of him that was happy for her, but he also worried this new behavior would make her more of a target. Hopefully, the differences in their coloring and gender would keep people from noticing the similarities about the nose and chin. Not that it mattered much. If people mistook her for Potter's girlfriend, it could be worse than their discovering her as his aunt.

"How are you doing?" the headmaster asked, not unkindly.

"Fine," Severus said automatically. "Have you had further thoughts about that letter I showed you?"

Dumbledore considered him. "Many thoughts but none worth repeating. You've still felt no summons?"

"No." Severus perched his finger tips around the rim of his mug, before sliding his hand down to hold it in a more traditional grip. "I wonder if I should make another visit in the morning. This quiet is unusual."

"If you think that letter is a warning, it may be best to heed it," Dumbledore said before sipping his own mug.

"Persephone thought it was a warning," Severus clarified.

He was reward by watching Dumbledore's lips press into a thin line. "How much have you told her?"

"Very little," Severus admitted. "Mostly only confirming things she had sorted out on her own. She found the letter on my desk."

"Careless of you." Dumbledore's reprimand was undermined by his yawn. "I'd rather you didn't involve her, Severus. She needs time to heal. I'd keep Harry out of things if not for that prophecy."

"Just like you've kept Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley out of it?" Severus asked not so innocently.

Dumbledore gave him a sideways glance but chuckled as annoyance melted into chagrin. "If they're going to charge in with Harry regardless, they may as well go armed. Besides they're all of age now."

"Do you think we've put a little too much weight on this prophecy about Potter?" Severus asked, not for the first time. "Consider the source. Trelawney is not the most gifted Seer."

Dumbledore drank quite a bit of cocoa before he answered. "Give me an alternative, Severus, and I'll be happy to take it. The prophecy is real only because Lord Voldemort made it real. If he shared my disdain for divination, things would be different now."

"I should go back then?"

"We will learn nothing new if you don't," Dumbledore said pragmatically. "It would be nice to know whether our enemies are still in the same hiding place, and whether Narcissa Malfoy was lying."

oOo

* * *

oOo

Persephone's fourteenth birthday was overshadowed by the death of Narcissa's father. Narcissa took the news with grim silence. Andromeda cried openly at the Hufflepuff table. Bellatrix appeared at lunch time to embrace her tearless sister and ignore the crying one. "Don't worry, Cissy. I'll always look out for you." Severus was seated further down the table, but Bella's voice carried. By the end of her visit, she had gotten Narcissa's promise to be strong and assured her that her own wedding to Rodolphus would still take place in June. "Father would have wanted us to carry on like Blacks."

If Persephone had any premonition of the event, she kept it to herself, but she played nervously with the salt shaker until Bella left. Severus was only bothered because he could not get a clear answer on how Narcissa's father had died. The obituary was vague. There seemed to be no investigation. He was not tactless enough to ask Narcissa. Lucius dodged the question by asking if it mattered. The few times Severus tried to discuss this with Persephone she pressed her lips together and looked away.

The other fifth year girls clung so tightly to Narcissa for the rest of the week it was difficult to get close enough to offer condolences. Persephone was able to squeeze in just long enough to give her a quick hug. Severus gave her space.

Otherwise it had been a good year for her. She had returned to school as a prefect, and with no Bella around to cast a shadow over her, Narcissa took her place in the sun. She had her revenge on Lucius by flirting with her own Ravenclaw, but never fully abandoned her place at his side. Slytherin's social queen wore her crown with dignity. Even people in other houses liked her and expressed their sympathies. She grieved with dignity. So much so, Severus sometimes wondered if she was really sad.

He was not sure he would feel sad if his own father died. Relieved perhaps. Maybe.

Unlike Lucius, Narcissa sought the company of her fellow fifth years to study for her O.W.L.s, joining groups of Slytherins and Ravenclaws in the library. Without her to glue them together, Lucius abandoned their old study group for extra Quidditch practices. This left Severus and Persephone to spend a fair bit of time together. Severus did not mind this.

For no reason that he could discern, Lily Evans used this as an excuse to talk to him again. "I was really sorry to hear about Black's father," she told him in an earnest voice that confused him.

Severus could think of nothing to say so he nodded.

"Why not show Sirius some sympathy, Evans?" James Potter asked in that overly formal way he had adopted. It was in stark contrast to his body language. They had lingered after History of Magic. Binns had already floated out of the room. James' feet were propped up on the desk in front of him, his arm flung carelessly over the back of his chair. Severus thought he looked like he was posing for a shot in _Quidditch Quarterly_. "Cygnus was his uncle after all."

Sirius snorted. He was sitting on the desk beside James; his own feet on a chair, posing. Lupin and Pettigrew were slumped nearby. "Evans can keep her sympathy. I'm glad he's dead. Bet you anything Bella bumped him off."

"You're really horrid. You know that?" Lily said indignantly. "Come on, Snape."

Severus, who was not used to being ordered out of a room by a pretty girl, followed her, while James feet fell off the desk.

"You don't think Sirius could be right, do you?" she asked him nervously once they were out in the hall.

Severus shrugged. There were few things he would put past Bella, but it was far too weighty an accusation to make without proof of some kind.

"Sorry," she said, hugging her history text. "Either way it's got to be hard on Narcissa. I couldn't imagine... Anyway, I didn't want to make trouble by trying to talk to her, but I thought maybe you'd be able to pass it on. If you think it would help. I don't want to make her feel worse."

Severus knew what she meant by trouble. Deep down Narcissa did not care one bit, but because of Lucius and family pressure, she was very cold to Muggle-borns and found excuses to keep them out of her social circle. With Slytherin girls excuses could become rather vicious, and Severus did not doubt this had rippled out to pretty, intelligent, popular Lily (who by blood purist logic should be none of these things). He was not sure if Narcissa would appreciate it, but the kindness of it touched him.

Persephone was kind too, but Severus often thought naively so. There was nothing naive about Evans. She knew full and well that Narcissa would throw her to the wolves if need be, but that did not seem to matter. Narcissa was hurt, so Lily was being kind.

They came to a stop by the library. Severus had not really intended to walk this far with her, but she had made no comment on his silence. Given all the people she could have chosen to deliver her message, Severus thought it was both kind and insightful for her to come to him too. He remembered something Persephone had said long ago, about saving her, and frowned at Evans with concern. "You know you're too good for Potter, right?"

She laughed. Green eyes lighting with surprise and merry suspicion. "I don't really think anyone's _better_ than anyone else, not even Potter," she said, cocking her head to the side. "Do you?"

Severus smiled and shook his head. He knew she was making a political statement and admired her wit. While not entirely sure he agreed with her, he liked Lily logic.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Persephone left the Great Hall the next morning swinging her nephew's hand. Severus enjoyed the bewildered look on Daphne Greengrass's face but noticed that Victoria took it in stride. Draco was trying a little too hard not to react. He approached the high table before Severus had finished eating.

"Excuse me, Professor. Do you mind letting me into the Potions lab today?"

"Not all," Professor Snape replied. "You can follow after I'm finished."

"Yes, sir," Draco said, polite as always, and returned to the Slytherin table.

He waited for Dumbledore to make some comment about favoritism, but the headmaster said nothing. After breakfast, he found all four Slytherins left their seats to follow him into the dungeons.

The others split off before they reached the Potions lab. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Victoria do a pirouette but dismissed it as unlikely. Daphne caught him looking and did a few dance steps of her own, but he ignored her.

He unlocked the Potions lab with a quick wave of his hand. "Thank you, sir," Draco said politely and went straight to work. Severus brought his own work into the lab. He had finished grading all the essays, but there were still lots of little vials to test and grade.

They did not speak, but Severus suspected Draco felt much like he did. It was not jealousy, more like abandonment. Persephone had gone back to her family, where she was supposed to be, and left them both behind. It was not entirely a sad thing. He liked seeing her happy. He was genuinely pleased that once Potter was able to put her in context he was treating her well. It was _right_. He felt empty, but it was right.

He worked his way very slowly through the vials. Persephone needed time to heal, and he needed time to process. He had pushed aside his confusion for her comfort, but he had spent so many years so sure that Black had been the culprit. It had been a steel certainty. Black had motive and opportunity. Black had smiled while others grieved. Severus never had any proof, but Black's betrayal of the Potters...Black's murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles...it had been as good as a confession. Black was guilty, and Black was in Azkaban.

He had not allowed himself to believe she was dead. The suspicion would creep in at times, but he would not allow it to become belief. Black had hidden her somewhere, cursed her, Obliviated her memory, tricked her into picking up a portkey to some remote corner of the earth. He would accept anything but death. Still as the years had passed, he had taken some consolation, allowed the world to balance, retained some sense of justice, because Black was guilty and Black was in Azkaban.

Even when Black had been cleared of the Potter's murder, even after he had come face to face with a living Pettigrew, he had not been able to fully deconstruct that myth. He had the presence of mind to search Pettigrew's thoughts with Legilimency, to question him about Persephone, but the rat had known nothing. Pettigrew had no talent for Occlumency. To Wormtail, Persephone was nothing more than proof that the world had no special love for the good. She had been kind and honest and see what that had gotten her. Gone. Dead.

_She's not dead_, Severus had snapped at him. _Do you think Black could have been involved?_

_Certainly, certainly_, the ugly little man had agreed. _Black didn't like her. He joked about getting her room once, then asked me not to tell James. _Legilimency had confirmed the memory. Severus had ignored the regret in Black's eyes, explained it to himself as regret over letting a clue slip, not regret over the sentiment.

But Black had not done it. Black was not guilty. Persephone had all but laughed that idea off. Severus felt the room swim as the full weight of his miscalculation hit him. He had almost killed the man. Almost handed an innocent man to the dementors to have his soul sucked out...well perhaps not entirely innocent, Black had tried to feed him to a werewolf after all. But still, that night he had been very close to killing Lupin too, and that—

Persephone might have forgiven him for killing Black. She never would have forgiven him for killing Lupin. She loved the werewolf. Besides Lupin had been entirely innocent. Chosen his friends poorly, put his students in danger certainly, but not a murderer, not an accomplice, almost a patsy.

Severus rubbed his temples. His head hurt. Thoughts, self accusations, and recriminations were screeching inside his brain.

The worst part was that he had stopped looking. Sixteen years ago. He had been broken, desperate, hopeless, weary, and suddenly the Dark Lord was gone, the Potters were dead, and Sirius Black was in Azkaban. He had not stopped looking for Persephone, not entirely, but he had stopped looking for suspects, stopped reexamining the clues, stopped letting her dominate his every waking thought. He had let his black fire die. It had diminished from a wildfire to something he could lock safely behind a grate and finally to a candle's flicker.

He had stopped looking because Sirius Black was in Azkaban. She had spent the last sixteen years locked in a painting, alone, because he had the wrong man.

Severus stood and walked out of the Potions lab. Draco glanced up at him but most likely assumed he was taking a bathroom break.

Severus did walk to the nearest bathroom. There was a small one down in the dungeons, not far from the Potions lab. He closed the door and let his back fall against it to block any entry. Privacy achieved, he let his face contort with all the pain he was feeling. Sixteen years. He had blamed the wrong man for sixteen years. He had stopped looking at the evidence. She had spent sixteen years alone, her life, his life, wasting away, because he had blamed the wrong man.

Severus slid down to the floor, a dry sob, a silent scream. He couldn't even cry properly.

He tried to reason with himself. There was no guarantee he would have found her even if he had known the truth about Black. Three and a half years of investigation had turned up no solid leads. But it was a pale comfort. He had failed her. Draco had rescued her, but he had failed.

And Harry...hadn't he promised her he would protect Harry? What if he hadn't gotten side tracked? What if he had put the clues together? Draco had somehow. What if he could have rescued her while he was still young enough to be what she needed? He had ignored it, dismissed it, but he had heard the others at Grimmauld Place talk about how the Dursleys had treated Harry. He had heard Lupin and Sirius bemoan not having been able to take him away from there, but Lupin was too poor and Sirius in jail. Persephone though, she would have taken care of her nephew. Blood magic be hanged, she would have taken him home to be loved. Home to him? Weird thought. Very weird. He would have made a terrible father figure, but he did have the good sense to know that boys did not belong in cupboards...but surely, that was an exaggeration...part of the myth...no one would really stick a child in a cupboard would they? He squirmed. _Half-starved_, just meant they hadn't been spoiling him, didn't it?

Severus had allowed the infant Harry to be tucked away in his mind with Dumbledore's reassurance. _He's safe. It's best to leave him there. With family_. He had dreaded the child coming to Hogwarts, dreaded being handed back the responsibility of protecting him. He had done such a poor job the first time around. Severus shuddered. Persephone would have wanted him to check on the baby. He had not. He had left it to others. Left it to a squib and a bunch of Muggles.

He should have gone to Azkaban. He should have questioned Black. But he had failed. He had failed both of them, all of them.

oOo

* * *

oOo

He had not been the best man at Lucius's wedding. He would not have wanted to be. For a Malfoy's wedding, it was a role with far too much political significance and pressure, but Lucius had kept him close while he got ready. Severus would have been happy to run little errands for him. But Lucius sent house-elves and other groomsmen to double check flower arrangements, approve cuff links, see to guests, and whatever else Lucius developed an anxiety about. But when Mrs. Malfoy poked in to tell her son that Narcissa was crying, Severus was the one he trusted to investigate.

Lucius had wanted to go himself, but there were superstitions about the bridegroom seeing the bride before the wedding. His mother held very firmly to this superstition, and Lucius did not want to risk her being right.

Narcissa's mother, Druella, stalked out of the room where Narcissa was getting ready as Severus raised his hand to knock. She took no notice of him as he stepped quickly out of her way. She was a handsome woman for her age, dark haired like Bella, but there was something of Narcissa about her features. There was also something hard and cold about her. Severus did his best to ignore the lingering trace of darkness left in her wake as he coughed politely in the door way.

Narcissa looked inhumanly beautiful, sitting on an armless piece of furniture in the center of the room, even with the tears streaking down her cheeks. She was shivering with her sobs as Bella tried to comfort her. "There, there, Cissy. You don't have to marry him if you don't want to. If you don't want to live with mother anymore, you could always come stay with Roddy and me."

Narcissa blue eyes widened as she looked at her sister. "Of course, I want to—"

"What do you want, Snape?" Bella demanded, her arm still wrapped possessively around Narcissa's shoulder.

Severus ignored Bellatrix and spoke to the bride. "Lucius sent me. He was worried." Narcissa gave him a grateful, tear-stained smile.

"She'll be fine," Bella snapped. Her dark eyes daring him to argue. "Now, go away."

"No!" Narcissa gasped and reached out a hand to him. "Stay, please!" He stepped forward to take it in the most gentlemanly fashion he could manage. "Let Severus stay," she repeated to Bella this time.

Bella had no time to argue as Druella reappeared in the doorway. "Bellatrix, your husband is looking for you."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Tell him I'm busy."

"A wife does not deny her husband—" Druella began hotly.

"Fine," Bella cut her off, though the heat in her voice implied more distaste than agreement with the sentiment. Rodolphus might pay for summoning her. "Don't let Snape molest you while I'm gone, Cissy." Severus gritted his teeth, knowing that was her idea of a joke. He did hate that woman.

Druella cast a disapproving glare on her eldest, as she strode past, and a suspicious but dismissive one at Snape. She carefully positioned the door to half opened, and quickly decided to follow the daughter most likely to make a disgraceful scene.

Narcissa indulged in another gasping sob after they were gone.

Severus patted her hand awkwardly, not sure how to comfort her. He had some vague idea that it was normal for women to be overwhelmed on their wedding day. Cold feet. "Lucius would never force you. If you're not ready..."

"Oh, no!" Narcissa's finger squeezed his tightly. "I'm so ready! I love Lucius! I love him more than—" She seemed unable to find for an appropriate comparison, and she laughed at herself. "You must think I'm so foolish, Severus, but I'm frightened. I got so horribly frightened that something would go wrong. I am horribly frightened."

Severus kept his hand on hers. "What could go wrong?"

Narcissa's tearful smile grew taut. "A thousand things. I keep imagining... Have you ever been frightened of things being too perfect? Lucius doesn't understand. He expects things to be perfect. They should be perfect for him. And I've wanted my life to be perfect too. I want to be a Malfoy. I want to be his wife so badly. I know life isn't like a fairy tale, where you fall in love and everything's fine. But this is so close. It's so close it terrifies me. I keep expecting something to happen, for reality to barge in and ruin it, but...I think that would kill me. I think if I didn't marry him, I would die." She shivered again, and her bright blue eyes looked beseechingly into his black one. "Have you ever been so happy it terrified you?"

"Yes." His lips had barely parted as the word slipped out, but it seemed to slap Narcissa out of her hysteria.

"Oh, Severus," she stood and clasped both his hands in her. There was a mix of horror and genuine apology in her eyes. "Oh, Severus, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Dear—can you ever forgive me?"

"It's all right," he had reassured her. Her words had hurt, stabbed straight through the widening maw in his chest, but he knew she had not spoken to hurt him. "Lucius loves you. There's no reason you shouldn't have a perfect life."

Narcissa raised his hands close to her chin. He had no memory of her ever standing so close to him or looking at him so intently. "I'm sure she's okay. Wherever she is, I know she's safe. And I know you're going to find her." He had no response for the intensity of her emotion. He had never done well with emotion. She bowed her head, kissed his hand, and laid her cheek against it.

He was saved from finding words by the reappearance of Narcissa's mother. Narcissa's hand tensed in his when she spotted her.

"I think it's time you go," Druella said coldly.

"Oh, mother, Severus is a dear friend," she said, a carefully constructed fond disinterest laced into her voice. "He was just telling me how silly I am to cry because Lucius loves me very much." Narcissa released one hand so she could wipe her eyes, demonstrating how Severus had calmed her with his reasoning.

"I should think so," her mother said stiffly. She seemed to remember he would be reporting to Lucius, so she gave him a false smile. "Weddings are a stressful time for every bride. Don't let a few tears worry him. Narcissa is sad to leave her family, very natural, but her tears will dry before the ceremony." Severus felt Narcissa's hand tense around his again.

"Yes, please tell don't Lucius how silly I've been," Narcissa said with her own beautifully false smile. "Tell him I'll be ready on time." Her eyes said _escape, escape, don't let anything go wrong with my escape_.

"Don't worry," he said softly. "Enjoy your last hour as a Black. You'll be a Malfoy soon."

Narcissa gave him a genuine smile at his understanding. He reassured Lucius that she was fine and kept her confession private. The wedding was perfect as only a Malfoy wedding could be. Lucius and Narcissa both smiled beautifully.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Severus had not needed to escape his own family. They had disowned him. The moment they discovered he had been a Death Eater the house had been barred to him. The fact he had repented and spied meant nothing to them. He had willingly joined Lord Voldemort, which made him a murderer, and his father and mother could no longer stand the sight of him.

Severus had not argued with them. Somehow it seemed fair. He had probably been the only Death Eater at the trials who wanted to go to Azkaban. So the Ministry had punished him by sending him to Hogwarts. Not their idea of course, Dumbledore had argued for him while he limply awaited his fate, and they let him go teach their children because Dumbledore could keep an eye on him. Idiots.

Severus pushed himself off the bathroom floor. There was only so much wallowing in self pity that a respectable man could allow. He had been far more useful to everyone at Hogwarts than in Azkaban, and he had probably been much happier here than he would have been in prison.

Unless he stole a time turner, there was no undoing the mistakes of his past twenty years, and even then, he would still be forty when she turned eighteen. At best he could let the younger version of himself have a few happy years with her before the universe imploded from some temporal paradox, he had managed to create. Besides, he still did not know where she had been, not definitely, or who had taken her.

He returned to the Potions lab and settled behind his desk. He had vials to test. He looked over at Draco who was intently focused on brewing some Draught of Living Death, so he could try to dehydrate it. And suddenly he understood. He knew deeply, surely, profoundly, who had taken his silver girl and left her in a painting for twenty years.

And the instant he understood who, he also understood why.

"Narcissa."

oOo

* * *

oOo

Married life had suited Lucius. The Dark Lord had allowed him to take his new bride on a long honeymoon. The newlyweds returned to an empty manor. Malfoy senior had transplanted his wife to their summer home in France and kept himself occupied with business out of the country for the duration of the war. Lucius and Narcissa frequently played host to those they considered high society. The first time Severus was invited over Lucius had smiled with such an attitude of perfect contentment that he had felt a stab of jealousy. Not over the manor or Narcissa, he wanted neither, but for that taste of bliss.

Lucius was giddily fond of his new wife. He wrapped his giddiness up in an air of dignity and refinement, but the affection was clear. He doted on her when she was present and wanted to speak about her when she was absent.

Narcissa for her part seemed eager to avoid the Curse Master. At first Severus thought she was embarrassed that he had seen her fall apart before the wedding, but later he realized that anything connected to the war made her anxious. She had her fairy tale life and was worried the Death Eaters would take it from her. She kissed Lucius's cheek and left them alone in the study to talk.

Lucius smiled fondly after her. "Narcissa's taken it into her head that she wants an occupation," he told his friend. It was clear in his voice he found this silly and unnecessary but would not deny her anything that pleased her. "She's applied to study as an Obliviator. I imagine she'll want to abandon it when she has a baby to distract her, but I figure what harm can it do."

Severus had smiled indulgently at his friend, who no doubt thought he was being quite progressive, and agreed with him. What harm could it do?

Apparently quite a bit. Narcissa was a competent witch, but not particularly gifted. She had no talent at all for memory charms. She studied them harder than any subject she had ever tried at Hogwarts, but she was hopeless. The program would not let her advance to live subjects. In a desperate attempt to practice, she had talked Lucius into letting her tag along on some Death Eater sport, to see if she could remove the Muggles memory of the event. She had managed that more or less. She had also destroyed half their mind. Her failure had horrified her beyond what seemed appropriate for a proper blood purist. Lucius had tried to reassure her that they were only a couple of Muggles, that she would improve with further practice, but there was no comforting her. She cried for hours, was jumpy for weeks, and abandoned all attempts to pursue any sort of career.

She only found peace when she learned she was pregnant and put all her energy into being the perfect wife and mother.

oOo

* * *

oOo

"What, Professor?"

There he was, Draco, Narcissa's greatest achievement, and now her penance. Draco with his father's eyes and mother's skin. Severus tried to feel angry at her. He wanted a new focus for the rage he had spent on Sirius Black, but he was unable to muster it.

"Nothing," he said. Draco frowned thoughtfully but returned to his work. It was like trying to be angry at a veela for drowning the man she had lured. There was no point.

oOo

* * *

oOo

He had to think of Narcissa as a creature. If he thought of her as a woman, he might strangle her, and that would not make anyone any happier. Perhaps he could resurrect the Blacks and flog them for making their daughter so terrified of her own family that she would betray a loyal friend to secure a marriage. He could hunt down Lucius and growl at him for being such a pig-headed, blood purist teenage boy that he had...done what any normal teenage boy would do.

He understood why beautiful Narcissa thought relatively plain little Persephone might be a rival. Lucius was the sort of man who could have gotten away with having a wife and a mistress if he wanted. He had worried about it silently. Sometimes he thought Lucius was subtly trying to guide him and Persephone together. Other times he worried that Lucius saw him as a eunuch guard for the girl he was grooming. Narcissa was beautiful and sophisticated. The sort of games she and Lucius had played with each other during their dating years were things he could not fathom or follow, but Lucius was always so comfortable with Persephone. Narcissa looked good on his arm. Persephone made him laugh.

He had been wrong to worry. He remembered trying to explain with desperation, because no one else had understood why he needed to look for Persephone, and Lucius had merely nodded and said, "Of course, you have to look for her. She's your girl," as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. But Narcissa had not been there for that conversation.

Nor had she been there, when Lucius demanded to know why Severus had not asked Persephone to the dance his fifth year. "I can't dance," Severus had told him in the same that-much-should-be-obvious tone Lucius would use years later.

"You are hopeless," Lucius had said in that exasperated tone which let Severus know he had entirely missed the point. But Lucius had taken pity on him and despite Severus's protests had taught him to dance. After an hour of Severus doing his best not to step on Lucius's feet and thanking the stars there was no one around to witness him waltzing with his hand on the tall, blonde Malfoy's waist, Lucius had taken a break and insisted Severus walk for him.

Severus had jerked grumpily from one end of the drawing room to the other, while Lucius scowled at him. "Merlin, man. You're an embarrassment to Slytherin." After this kind assessment, he had insisted on teaching Severus how to walk. Severus groused, cursed him mentally, but was secretly very eager and grateful for the lessons. Lucius spent several hours that summer reforming him, teaching him to stand properly, walk properly, speak properly, refining his manners. He no longer needed a secret swot, but the sort of friends who could the right positions. They played Quidditch with Lucius's friends, and he no longer put up with Severus flying in circles. With someone else to compete against, Severus had become a half-decent Seeker. More importantly, he had learned to make his body obey him, to walk with some semblance of grace, with confidence.

He doubted Lucius would approve, but one of the first things he did with his refined manners and new confidence was apologize to Lily Evans. Being the saint she was, after securing his promise never to use the term "Mudblood" ever again, she gave him a second chance. Partly to drive Potter to distraction and mostly because he wanted her advice, he finally asked her for that drink at the Three Broomsticks. Persephone had been mercilessly gleeful over him having a "date", which was ironic since he spent most of his time with Evans trying to get advice over how to ask out Persephone.

Evans had given him quite a bit of good advice, much of which boiled down to telling him to relax and stop over thinking things. The worst she could say was no.

Even with his improved confidence, the prospect of that no had been so terrifying he had put off asking Persephone about the dance as long as possible. In April, Lucius had pulled himself away from adulthood long enough to have lunch with his four year set at Hogsmeade. Persephone had twittered nervously that she was worried no one would ask her to the dance.

"I wouldn't worry," Lucius soothed her. "I think someone will ask you, but if they don't, I'll take you to the dance."

Persephone had beamed with relief, but Severus felt like Lucius had slapped him. Narcissa looked like she was feeling the same way. "But what about me?" she demanded.

"You'll have no trouble at all finding a date," Lucius had said with a confident and irritating lack of concern. However true that may have been, Narcissa did not want _a date_. She wanted Lucius. Severus understood that much while they were still sitting at the that table, maybe Lucius had understood it too.

In retrospect, Severus knew Lucius had been trying to goad him into action, but such subtleties had been lost on him at the time. "Why did you do that?" he had demanded when the girls were out of earshot. "She'll never agree to go with me now!"

Lucius had aimed his cold, grey eyes at him, pity and irritation warring in them. "You don't know that until you ask her."

Lucius had been right of course. He understood these social things far better than Severus did, and apparently thought more highly of Severus than Severus did of himself, but he had underestimated Narcissa's desperation. He had played one game too many with her, and Persephone had paid the price.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Blaming Lucius was fairly useless too. He was his own sort of creature. You might have better luck reasoning with a manticore than trying to make him understand that his games were too rough for most mortals. They were well matched. The manticore and the veela.

Severus wanted to feel angry, but he just felt exhausted.

He collapsed onto his bed that evening without undressing and stared at the crystal butterfly on his bedside table. It looked so fragile.

All he wanted to do was sleep or attempt to sleep, but his arm began to burn. He had managed to ignore the Dark Lord's summons a time or two and survive, but he had always had better excuses than wanting a lie-in. He rolled back up to his feet and straightened his robes. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and raised his arms. He could not see a butterfly. A bat maybe. People had made that comparison.

Biting back a sigh, he flung open the door to his apartment. Persephone was blocking his way. She looked like a specter in the long, white, old fashioned night gown he had bought her. Her hair was wilder than usual from the tousle of sleep. He was not entirely sure she was awake now. Her eyes seemed unfocused, intent but unfocused.

"You can't go," she whispered desperately.

Arguing with her in this state was useless too. "What?"

She clasped his arm, looked up at him with unfocused, watery eyes. "You can't go! They'll kill you! They know, Severus! You can't go." Her lip trembled. It was nice that someone wanted him alive, even if she was half-asleep.

His arm was burning angrily. He did his best to ignore it. "All right," he said, touching her cheek gently. "I won't go." She was not entirely awake. She swayed slightly on the spot, eyelids drooping. Severus put his arm around her shoulder and guided her back to the Slytherin common room.

As Head of House, he could enter the girls dormitory if needed, but it was not something he liked to do unless absolutely necessary. Instead he settled her on one of the couches and conjured a blanket. He tucked her in and stroked her hair until she drifted back into a normal sleep.

She was a different sort of creature...a fairy, a nymph...a unicorn...Silver Child...delicate as a butterfly. He was afraid of breaking her, spoiling something so pure.

He had nothing else to do, so he returned to his own room and laid back down. He did not doubt her warning. She was never wrong about these things. They know. It was just as well. He was not sure his resolve not to kill Narcissa would have held if he had come face to face with her that night. There was no telling what he would have said to Lucius.

He should have felt relief. He hated lying. Hated pretended to be something he was not. Spouting the pureblood tripe. Keeping up the constant masks. Playing the dangerous game of double agent. He should feel relieved he could not be expected to do it anymore. But all he felt as he lay in bed with his arm burning was useless.

oOo

* * *

**Author's Note: **Sorry about all the jumbled time-jumping with the flashbacks. They're a reflection of Snape's current state of mind. To sum up the Narcissa timeline in case you got lost.

**May 1975** - Bella kills their father to protect little Cissy. Bella had taken the brunt of things before, but her upcoming marriage, coupled with Andromeda's disowning, made her fear for her soon to be unprotected sister.

**June 1976 - **Lucius leaves Hogwarts. Teaches Snape to dance (tell me you don't love that mental image).

**Fall 1976** - Severus apologizes to Lily and has his "date" with her, which makes Narcissa think he's lost romantic interest in Persephone.

**April 1977** - Lucius tries to kick Snape in gear by saying he'll take Persephone to the dance if no one else will. Narcissa misinterprets this and freaks.

**Late May 1977**- Severus and Narcissa win the worst timing ever award. Narcissa has come up with a hasty but effective plan to get Persephone out of the way without harming her. She lures Persephone out to the lake to "paint her portrait".

**Fall 1978** - Narcissa and Lucius get married.

**1978-79** - Narcissa had always planned to let Persephone go once her marriage was secure, but she doesn't want to go to Azkaban for kidnapping. She tries to learn how to use a memory charm, so she can erase the portion of Persephone's memory that would convict her. This had always been part of the plan...she just didn't count on not being able to do a proper memory charm.

**Late 1979 / Early 1980** - Narcissa finds out she's pregnant. Voldemort starts hunting the Potters. So Narcissa decides to leave Persephone in the painting for a while and figure it out later.

**Summer 1997** - Draco finds Persephone and rescues her. By this point, Narcissa has villainized Persephone a bit in her mind so she can live with what she's done. Thus the coldness and warnings to Draco about mind manipulation, etc.

**Next Chapter: **A kiss and a boggart...

**P.S.** Sirius comes off pretty bad in this fic, but that's because it's Snape P.o.V. There's got to be reasons they hate each other so much. I'm sure Snape did quite a bit to antagonize him and James that he's conveniently forgetting to mention in this story too...possibly more on that in the next couple chapters...


	8. The Fall

**Severus Snape and the Last Year**

By Carla Lute

**Notes: **If you want to go with the zippered, semi-chronological reading of the Last Year levels, you would read Level Level 3.8 right after Level 2.9: The Younging Potion (aka Chapter 14).

Special Thanks to Imbeni for beta testing. Go poke him to write more Neville for me.

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on the Harry Potter novels written by J.K. Rowling. All characters created by J.K. Rowling are owned by J.K. Rowling. The few characters created by me (i.e. Persephone, Hotchet, Kagome…) belong to me, but are available for use in other fics as long as I get credited as their creator. None of us are making any money off this and no infringement is intended.

* * *

oOo

**Level 3.8: The Fall**

"You're not in trouble are you?" Persephone asked nervously when she finally decided to visit him during her waking hours.

"No," he said curtly. He had not intended to be curt, but his insomnia often lent to a mordant humor. It was difficult to shed.

"Good," she said, playing with her fingers. "I've missed you...but I thought Dumbledore was mad. I didn't want you to lose your job because of me. And I figured I ought to spend some time with Harry, since I'd been neglecting him."

"I understand," he said. He did, but his sleep deprived brain whined of abandonment. The students would be returning that evening, and he was on the verge of asking Pomfrey to recommend a sleeping potion.

"I wish you liked each other more," she said, stretching her hand out to him. He blinked, a little too slow, and she pulled it back before he remembered to take it. "I guess Dumbledore said, 'no touching'."

"Not exactly," said Severus. "But he would probably prefer it."

Persephone nodded glumly. "Do you still want to play chess?"

"Yes." Severus retrieved the chess set, and they played. It was better than nothing. By the end of the game he felt a little better. This was perfectly proper, perfectly restrained, perfectly unobjectionable.

oOo

* * *

oOo

"Professor?" Hermione Granger approached his desk as cautiously as one might approach a wounded dragon and stopped a few feet away. "Professor Snape?"

He gave no other reaction than to turn his eyes to her. Potter was hovering near the exit, but the rest of the seventh year class had cleared the room.

"I—um, I appreciate that you considered me for the scholarship, sir."

Severus sniffed and straightened the papers on his desk. "It's too late. Mr. Longbottom has already accepted it."

"Oh, n-no," Granger stuttered. "I mean—I'm r-really glad you gave it to Neville—I am—I just wanted to say I appreciated being considered — I didn't — I completely understand it's my own fault for — for jumping to conclusions the way I did. — Persephone told me...well it's terrible what you went through—I should have known not to—to suspect you of—"

Professor Snape straightened in his chair. "Ms. Granger as a school prefect you should be aware of certain protocols. If you suspect one of your professors of inappropriate conduct, you should report the matter directly to your Head of House."

Granger opened her mouth, but Professor Snape was not finished.

"If your Head of House is the professor in question, you report the matter to the Headmaster and barring him the school governors. You do not attempt to investigate the matter yourself, or spread potentially slanderous theories."

"Yes, sir," she said dutifully. "I swear I didn't tell anyone."

"My point, Ms. Granger," Severus said, fixing her with his best teacher stare. "Is that you should have."

He had the grim satisfaction of seeing that he had managed to upset her. Granger's drug of choice was approval, and he was not about to give her any. Her lip trembled, but it was pity collecting in her eyes, and that made him uncomfortable. "Professor, I'm really sor-"

"If that's all, Ms. Granger," he interrupted. "I would like you to clear out before the second years arrive."

She hesitated, but Potter took her in hand. "Come on, Hermione," he said protectively. There was no pity for poor Professor Snape in his eyes, which was just as well. Severus Snape did not want pity.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Though he would have preferred to forget the occasion, Persephone remembered his birthday. She showed up with a hand made card, which she had gotten several students from Slytherin house to sign. "Happy Birthday to the World's Greatest Teacher?" he read aloud.

Persephone winced while she smiled. "I know it's a little hokey, but there's only so much you can say in a card. And we do think you're a great teacher."

Severus opened it. "Professor Snape; You're really great; We really do appreciate; All the tests you make us take; Hope that you enjoy your cake; Love from the House of Snakes...really?"

Persephone's cheeks were puffed from contained laughter. "Indigo's been on a poetry kick. That was her um...contribution. She will get better with practice."

"Do I get a cake?"

"Um, yes," she said setting the box in her hands on his desk. "I asked the house-elves for a little one since you're not big on sweets, but you still like devil's food...don't you?"

Severus nodded.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get you a real present. I had to transfigure ornaments for everyone this year. It will be nice to have my own money again."

"Dumbledore thinks you may be entitled to some of Harry's inheritance," Severus said as delicately as he could.

"I don't want Harry's money," Persephone rolled her shoulders to shrug off the idea. "I'm sure he'd share if I asked. And you've already been so generous. But I was thinking maybe I'd get a job or something this summer. Then it would really be my own money."

Severus nodded again. He wanted to pat her hand or give her a reassuring hug, but they were being proper. No touching.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Severus wished he could ignore the little noises coming from the side corridor in an unused portion of the Dungeon, but he had been fighting for the reputation of Slytherin House for sixteen years. Now was not the time to stop.

He rounded the corner and grabbed Theodore Nott by the collar, physically hauling him off his girlfriend. Ms. Hedgebottom spluttered and turned scarlet as she scrambled to her feet. Thankfully they were both still mostly dressed. Outer robes had been discarded and spread underneath them on the floor. They were both decidedly disheveled, shirts untucked. Mrs. Hedgebottom's blouse had been worked up to reveal her navel, which she quickly worked to cover.

"Ten points from Slytherin," he growled, setting his expression to his most disapproving Professor Snape mask and making sure his voice dripped with disgust. "My office!"

Mrs. Hedgebottom hastily gathered up her robe, hugging it to her chest. Her flush was spreading down her neck. Mr. Nott on the other hand looked angry and annoyed, shifty eyes already plotting a better hiding place. Severus kept his hand on the back of the boy's neck and shoved him down to pick up his own robe before guiding him forcibly into his office.

"If you wish to disgrace yourselves, you need to wait for summer holidays," he intoned, keeping his voice as free from inflection as possible. It seemed to make the experience more mortifying than if he yelled. "This is a school, not a brothel."

He shoved Mr. Nott into one chair, while his girlfriend sank into the other, covering her face with her hands. He swirled around to face them with arms crossed and his most intimidating glower. Nott was still looking truculent, so Severus focused his ire on him. "Did you have any plans for Ms. Hedgebottom after you'd had your way with her? A marriage proposal perhaps, or just a notch on your bedpost?"

Nott finally looked uncomfortable. Severus doubted he had thought that far ahead. "I don't suppose either of you considered the effect you might have on the younger students, or is this the sort of example you think Advanced students should be setting? Rolling on the floor like a pair of primates." No one ever got that joke. "You have of course considered how you'd support yourselves if Ms. Hedgebottom became pregnant. It is difficult to find work without your N.E.W.T. certifications, but some people seem to manage it. Perhaps you think your parents will help you get established. Should we ask them?"

"Oh, please, no!" Ms. Hedgebottom squeaked. "Please don't write my parents, Professor! Please."

Severus allowed a little mellowing to show. "Hogwarts is not good place to do things you would be ashamed to have others know about, Ms. Hedgebottom. I suggest you think hard about how to guard your reputation, particularly if Mr. Nott is not willing to make that effort."

Theodore shot him an angry glare but was wise enough not to say anything.

"This is your warning," Professor Snape relented. "If I catch you at such disgraceful behavior again, you will be sent home to explain yourself to your parents in person. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," Hedgebottom said earnestly, and Nott muttered.

"Dismissed," Severus said, waving them out of his office. Ms. Hedgebottom was eager to escape, but Mr. Nott walked out stiffly. He saw her pause in the hall to wait for him. Not every relationship survived his interventions, but they were the most effective form of birth control he had found. He liked to think they had a better chance of long-term happiness if they considered the logistics of the relationship first. But it was not his job to play matchmaker. It was his job to protect his students, especially from each other.

"He's one to talk," Nott's muttered comment floated back through the doorway.

"_Shuttup!_" Ms. Hedgebottom hissed at him and hurried him away.

Severus scowled at their retreating shadows. He was tempted to dock another twenty points, but sometimes it was best not to let students know how well he could hear them. Besides, the comment troubled him. He was not sure he wanted to know what Nott meant by it. Persephone had implied there was speculation about him having some romantic interests in a female teacher. Nott may have automatically translated this into sexual interest...then again, it could be the opposite. Many students assumed love was the domain of the young, and it was impossible for a dry, old bachelor like him to understand.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Sinistra fixed him with a narrow stare over the table in the teachers lounge. She had acquired a new set of blood red robes with matching hat over the holidays. "You look grumpy."

"I've been told I always look grumpy," Severus sneered. He was reclining in an armchair and his usual black puddle of fabric. "It's the way my face is shaped."

"Trouble in paradise?"

Severus ignored her and lifted the book he was trying to read a little higher.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Draco came to him between classes with a letter clutched in his hand. He waited until the other students had cleared the room before approaching his desk. "Professor, I got a letter from my mother, and I thought part of it might be pertinent to you."

Severus double checked that the room was clear and raised his eyebrows questioningly. He had decided not to tell Draco that he had worked out his mother's guilt, and he was still debating whether to discuss the matter with Persephone, or more precisely, how to discuss it with her. He was worried his bottled anger might spill out the wrong way. Narcissa had at least kept Persephone alive and hidden from Lord Voldemort, and that was...something.

"I guess I'll read it," Draco said uncertainly. His social etiquette training did not cover situations like this. "_Look out for S. I fear the danger that I warned you of may have taken hold of him._"

"Danger?"

"She...warned me, in another letter, to be sure my thoughts are my own." Draco seemed to be struggling with how much to say. "She warned me that a Silver Child has some ability to influence minds. She doesn't know it's the same Persephone." Draco lied very smoothly. It was a little disconcerting. Still the concern in his eyes seemed genuine. "But I don't think she's entirely wrong. Persephone's in denial about it, but she does seem to be able to affect people. I don't know if she makes people think things so much as she puts them at ease. They tell her things they shouldn't."

While part of him wanted to be angry, Draco's grey eyes were so earnest it was almost funny. He very much wanted Professor Snape to confirm or deny his theory. Professor Snape decided to torture him a little by repressing his response to a dismissive nod.

Draco's face fell. He liked dramatics and wanted a reaction. "I've been doing my best to combat the rumors going around, but I don't know how to explain to people why Persephone's spending time with Potter."

"Don't try to explain it," Severus said dryly. "Persephone's never been bothered by what other people think of her choice of companions."

Draco frowned thoughtfully and seemed to want to stay more, but the next class had started wandering into the room.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Persephone's circle of sixth year friends included Laurel Hedgebottom. She seemed to have grown close to the sixth year girls, particularly her dorm mates. It occurred to Severus that he had no idea what they talked about. He wondered if they had discussed the incident from the other day. Would Persephone patiently back him up and encourage Laurel to take it slow, or would she indulge in speculative gossip at his expense? Either way, looking at them side by side was disconcerting, as it was hard to say which looked younger.

Her quest to learn everyone's name had left Persephone far more popular than he remembered from their school days. It probably helped that he was not there to chase off her acquaintances, though Victoria was an effective substitute if she wanted a little quiet. For the most part, she looked happy, but popularity had its drawbacks. People were confused by her sudden relationship with Potter in the same way they had been confused about her relationship with Draco at the beginning of the year. As Harry Potter held something of a celebrity status while Draco was merely popular, the vitriol that resulted was on a grander scale. Severus tried to ignore gossip, as he had advised Draco to do, but even he caught some of the vicious looks and slanderous mutters shot her way.

Persephone had her well placed defenders as did her nephew. Slytherin's rising Quidditch star, Chesann Blampied, and the Gryffindor team captain, Ginny Weasley, were putting a positive spin on the gossip about the two, trying to explain that it was part of their campaign to improve relations between the houses, but few people were accepting this explanation.

Victoria seemed disinterested in gossip, though a Hufflepuff boy, who Severus overheard make some whispered remark involving _that Slytherin slut,_ had his ears cursed off in Dueling Club. Pomfrey managed to fix them back on, so Severus decided it did not count as a permanent injury.

Draco was naturally attempting to spread some palatable version of the truth, but he looked so tired, Severus regretted not taking more time to listen to his warning. He had wanted to penalize Draco for the lie, but how could he blame the boy for wanting to protect his mother? Still, what could he say to him? Yes, I know Persephone affects me and the Dark Lord no longer trusts me, and by the way, I am fully aware that your mother is the manipulative bitch who made my life miserable.

No, it was best that he kept his silence until he could trust his tongue.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Angry Avery's acrid tongue had had a terrible effect on his own. Before Avery, he had been fairly proper and precise in his speech. While his sentences were not always elegant, his mother had instilled in him a fine vocabulary of which he made thorough use, often to the bewilderment of his peers and delight of his teachers. Under Avery's influence, all manner of expletives seeped into his mind and started slipping out his mouth at unguarded moments.

Avery was one of the last remnants of Bellatrix's court, and Lucius would not tolerate him. The previous year Rabastan had held the remnants of that gang together, but with Lestrange gone, Avery decided to hang about Severus, who he saw as a social equal. He was a rabid if unsophisticated blood purist. Hardly a day went by without Severus hearing the words 'filthy little Mudbloods'.

Severus tolerated this, because as disagreeable as Avery was, he was also one of the very few people to seek out Severus's company. By some odd coincidence, doe-eyed Regulus Black had decided that hanging around the Curse Master was cool. Thus Severus found himself the leader of a tiny and rather boring gang. He understood why unattractive, unpleasant, unintelligent Avery needed someone to follow. Regulus baffled him. Sirius's younger brother was a gentle, well-mannered, good looking, reasonably intelligent fourth year with some oddly childish habits like bringing his toad to the table for every meal.

He had developed a lot of theories about Regulus. The boy was devoted to his mother. His mother was devoted to the dark arts. Her older son Sirius was a severe disappointment in this area, though he excelled at bullying, and Regulus was trying to be everything Sirius was not. So Regulus tried to pursue the dark arts but never bullied anyone. For a brief time, he suspected that Regulus hung around him to get close to Persephone, but while the two got on very well, Severus never saw any indication of romantic interest between them. In fact, Regulus once admitted that he assumed Persephone was Snape's girlfriend, but being set straight on that matter did not seem to lower his estimation of the older Slytherins. Regulus seemed genuinely fascinated by Severus's vocabulary and Avery's foul language but was never very good at copying either. He did try, but the results were almost adorably clumsy.

Severus refused to teach Regulus or Avery any curses, but Regulus read dark arts books on his own. He asked Severus questions about anything he did not understand, and Severus was compelled by his deep love of accuracy to answer. He tried to steer Regulus's unhealthy interest by giving him additional information on counter-curses, potential consequences, and any relevant stories he remembered from his history reading or Auror accounts. He sounded very adult and authoritative when he did this, and Regulus would listen to all of it with a look of intense fascination if not full comprehension.

Later, he would sometimes wonder if Regulus's aspect of innocence was an act, as Barty Crouch's had proven to be. But that mystery was lost to time, Regulus had not survived the war.

Sirius hated the fact that his little brother idolized Severus. Severus hated it too, because Sirius took out his irritation on him. Sirius was too _cool_ to ever admit he was jealous of Snape, but that happy state of being ignored was gone. James had won Gryffindor the Quidditch cup with Quigley's help, which meant he could do no wrong. Sirius had grown tall and rakishly handsome. Lupin had become prefect and reasonably good looking with a bookish charm. While Pettigrew added nothing particularly obvious to the group, his inclusion with the Marauders spoke to Gryffindor solidarity. The quartet gave each other silly nicknames, laughed loudly over in jokes, flirted shameless with their female admirers, got in the habit of hitting anyone who annoyed them with minor hexes. Severus apparently annoyed them more than any other student.

Lily Evans was appalled by this behavior and rebelled by giving Severus the occasional smile or kind word. Which was not terrible in and of itself, but every time she so much as looked at him, he was treated to extra attacks by Potter and even if he managed to dodge those, he would have to endure extra diatribes about _filthy Mudbloods_ from Avery. He had not had the heart to tell Evans she was making things worse for him. Instead he wound himself in a constant state of alert and shot back with his own curses. He did his best to talk Regulus and Avery out of retaliating, but Avery's short temper often got the best of him. Regulus was not a hot head, but twice he tried to do something on his own. Every time, the Marauders assumed Severus had put him up to it.

This resulted in multiple trips to the headmaster's office for him and Potter.

"What is it this time boys?" Dumbledore had asked the third time they were sent up, this time dragged in by an irate Muggle Studies professor who had made the mistake of stepping between them and got caught in the line of fire. Professor Higgs, who was covered on one side by some pulsing greenish bumps and on the other by some sort of flowering vines, left them to Dumbledore and stomped off, presumably to the hospital wing.

Severus could never put words together as quickly as James, so he settled for sulking outwardly and cursing inwardly. Lips twitching with amusement (James was very good at making anything sound funny), Dumbledore had said something wise about fighting rarely only affecting the participants, given them detention, and sent them on their merry way. Severus almost preferred it when he alone caught the blame. After tsking over whatever Severus had allegedly done, Dumbledore usually spared a few minutes to talk books or theory with him.

Sirius liked to blame Severus any time James got detention, regardless of who had started the fight, so the cycle would generally start up again after a few days.

He got a little bit of a break after Easter, when James and Sirius had decided to focus on their O.W.L.s for a while, and he became careful not to get caught in the halls alone. But midway through those distracting exams, he had let his guard slip, and they had pounced on him.

Lily had come to his defense, but physically hurt, more embarrassed and exposed than he had ever been in his whole life, and knowing her intervention would only mean worse later, he had snapped at her with the most hurtful words he could muster. Once out they could not be retrieved. He had stood frozen and hunched, catching his breath, fighting back tears, taking Lily's insults, knowing he had earned them, contemplating how best to retrieve his wand and make his escape, but somehow hoping the ordeal was over. As it was, it would have been one of the worst days of his life, but no Potter and Black were not done yet.

Evans departed in a huff and left him to feel the brunt of James frustration. He found himself dangling in the air again, wand hopelessly out of reach, and James next words froze his blood.

"_Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?_"1

Someone laughed. Severus thought he might pass out from sheer panic. What sort of sick—? He tried to struggle his robes up for coverage, but gravity was his enemy.

"James! What the hell are you doing?" Persephone's voice stabbed through him. Lily had stalked off, but just to prove the universe hated him, the only girl he cared about impressing had arrived on the scene to witness his humiliation. He genuinely wanted to die.

"I bet Hissy would like to see Snivellus without his pants," Black taunted.

"Of course not! That's disgusting! PUT HIM DOWN!" Severus could not see her, but he could picture the look on her face.

"Hear that, Snivelly?" James said loudly. "Sephi doesn't want to see you with your pants down."

"PUT—HIM—"

"Hey, Hissy, you're not allowed to point that thing at people." Severus heard Black say in a placating tone, as he was dropped unceremoniously once again on his head. His arms crumpled under him, cushioning some of the impact. He had not been quite high enough to break any bones but everything hurt. He scrambled to cover himself and grab his things.

Some other Slytherins had arrived on the scene by then, but Severus could not see them. His eyes had watered and blurred his vision. He was blinking furiously to avoid giving them the satisfaction of seeing him cry. Persephone and her brother were still yelling at each other. Lucius had appeared after a few minutes, summoned by the growing crowd. He had used his clout as head boy to put an end to the matter and guided Persephone away. Severus had followed them limply back to the dungeons.

He had spent the next week plotting the murder of James Potter and Sirius Black. It may have only been the train ride back home that saved them. Persephone tried to sooth him, but he could not even look at her. Every time he did, all he could hear was "disgusting".

oOo

* * *

oOo

He had cooled down to simply seeking their expulsion by the time the next school year came. Getting an 'O' on all ten of his O.W.L.s had greatly improved his mood. His father had had nothing to complain about, which was almost as good as praise.

"You might make something of yourself after all," he had pronounced at the breakfast table.

No one made anything of themselves in Azkaban, so James and Sirius were spared. It also helped knowing Sirius had been disowned, and James' parents had heard enough of the story to ground him for the first two weeks of summer.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Severus tried putting his World's Greatest Teacher card on the mantle in his bedroom. He had tried his office first, but it seemed gauche. He worried one of the other teachers would see it. He knew the card was supposed to fill him with warm, fuzzy feelings of appreciation, but instead it just stared accusingly at him, mocking him from his mantle. Between that and the butterfly on his bedside table, he could not sleep. He tried moving the card next to the butterfly to see if their power would diminish if the physical area they covered was more concentrated, but it only helped a little.

He liked to think he was a good teacher, but World's Greatest was gross overstatement. Maybe if it had been more specific, best Potions Master, or something more honestly subjective like favorite or fantastic. Maybe it was that awful poem that bothered him. It was so childish and impersonal. Had he really considered pursuing Ms. Stump post-Hogwarts? What was he considering now?

He had never understood the purpose of birthday and Christmas Cards. He understood letters. They communicated something specific, but cards just seemed so pointless. Still someone had made an effort. It seemed heartless to chuck it in a bin. He tucked it into a box of letters he considered worth preserving. Before he closed the lid, he realized his real worry was that Persephone simply had a teacher crush, and he was encouraging it.

He sat down with this heavy thought. She herself had implied it was a crush, compared herself to Daphne Greengrass who had a "crush on you too". Severus shivered and fell back on his bed sheets. He had not cared what other girls thought. He had learned not to take such things seriously, which meant her interest might fade away like leprechaun gold.

Even if he could make a case for her being legally thirty-six by lieu of her birth certificate, she had spent twenty years in a painting, day dreaming, but not having any real experiences. There was no telling what sterling qualities her imagination had given him, and no doubt to a student, head of house sounded like a grand and powerful thing. Wishful thinking may have exaggerated her maturity a bit in his own mind. He was too much of a pragmatist to not realize she had flaws, but he loved her all the more for them. He did love her. That had to count for something. It was another reason to take things slow. He needed to give her time to be certain of herself.

Very well. He could be mature. Maturity, propriety, rules, logic. He was good at these things. It was what she claimed to like about him.

oOo

* * *

oOo

At lunch the following Monday, Severus watched Persephone step aside at the behest of Arlen Jewkes. Jewkes was a good kid. Severus liked him. A sixth year Ravenclaw with tousled fair hair and cool blue eyes, Jewkes had never gotten a detention or so much as lost a point since his first day at Hogwarts. He was wavering between a career as a healer or at the Ministry, but he was on a solid track to do either. Severus watched them for a little while before he realized he was staring and forced his attention elsewhere.

Arlen reminded him a little of Persephone's father. Not physically, but there was something essentially kind about Arlen. He was unapologetically good. His family were stable, pleasant people. They looked right together. Two pure, untroubled sixteen-year-olds.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Persephone knocked on his office door that afternoon. He told her to come in and perched himself on the side of his desk, still scanning a fresh correspondence from the American college. Persephone closed the door softly and stepped over slowly to stand in front of him. "Severus?"

Her voice was calm and her face serious, so he put down his letter to give her his full attention. "Arlen asked me to the dance today, but I want you to know I turned him down. I don't want to go with anyone else."

Severus placed his palms on the desk and let his fingers wrap around the edge. "Maybe you should consider accepting the offer. I couldn't take you even if I wanted to. There's no reason you shouldn't enjoy the evening." That was calm and neatly reasoned.

"I don't want Arlen to think I'm interested in him that way," said Persephone. Her eyes still oddly intense. "I don't want you to think there could be someone else. I love you, Severus. If I can't go with you, I don't want to go with anyone."

Words deserted him again. She stepped closer while he tried to gather his thoughts. "I don't care what Dumbledore said. It's killing me not to touch you." She reached her hand out to graze his cheek. Feather light finger tips traced his ear. She stepped into the gap between his knees, rested her hands lightly on his thighs, and lowered her eyes to his mouth. "I love you," she said softly, her breath touching his lips, before her mouth found his.

So much for his fragile resolve. His hands clutched the edge of the desk, and he kissed her back. Deeper and more intimate than their first kiss, he could not help responding. Her lips worked his mouth open, and he could taste her warm breath.

It was everything he wanted. To be loved, touched, kissed, and this was the person he most wanted it from. Everything he wanted, but was it what she needed? He parted from her to draw breath.

"I love you."

The words were wrenched from his battered heart, refusing to go unspoken any longer. He wanted her to understand that. She gasped in quiet delight and moved to kiss him again, but he angled his mouth away by resting his forehead against hers. Their kiss had shattered his delusion that they could continue for months with platonic meetings. After twenty years without human contact, she was quite naturally craving touch, and he did not have the strength of will to deny her if she offered herself. He could glimpse the future if allowed himself to kiss her again. Even if he resisted and reasoned, she would break him down easily. He would become her lover, if that was what she wanted, because he desperately wanted to be. Life would fill with secret meetings and stolen kisses.

When they got caught...he had no doubt it was a matter of when and not if...when they got caught, what did that mean for her? Expulsion or separation. Dumbledore had made it very clear that he would be fired. Her reputation would be in ruins. Even if they tried to explain, she would always be the student who got the head of Slytherin fired. He would always be the Hogwarts teacher that had an affair with his underage student. No respectable person in the wizarding community would hire him. Even if he left the country that was the sort of scandal that could follow one across the waters.

The only thing he really knew how to do was teach Potions, and no one was going to hire him to do that. He had bragged to Persephone about being comfortable, and yes, he could afford a small cottage somewhere. If they wanted for nothing but food, they could get by on his savings. But while he might be quite happy living in a cave with her and a large pile of books, she needed people. She was used to living in places like Hogwarts and London. Her parents had spoiled her a little. She would want to travel and have children. The idea of being a father terrified him. He might forget all that if he let himself kiss her again.

"Persephone..." Her forehead moved gently against his as though this touch was just as desirable as another kiss, so he pulled his forehead away too. "Persephone, you can't come to my office anymore."

It hurt to say it. It hurt to see the confusion in her eyes. "What?"

"I think it might be best if you tried to forget about me." The crease in her brow grew more pronounced. "For the time being at least."

"How could that be best?" she said with a slight shake of her head. Her hands tensed on his thighs. He took them in his so he could think. She took a step back on her own.

"We can't do this. I'm your teacher—"

"I'll drop Potions."

"I'm still your Head of House."

"I'll change Houses." She caught her own absurdity. "I'll drop out of school."

"I can't let you do that. Hogwarts if the safest place for you. The Dark Lord—"

"Can go hang himself! You're allowed a spouse! I don't care if it's unusual. It's not against the rules, and we're not doing anything wrong! I've been in love with you _forever_, and I'm not letting Dumbledore or Voldewart take you away again!" It was unreasonable to expect her to be patient and rational. She had been wronged. He knew he was causing her pain. Oddly enough _Voldewart _did not make his arm burn. That was something to remember.

Hopefully a little pain now would save her from deep regret later. "Persephone, please listen. I'm not the boy I was at seventeen. I've done things that I can't confess to you, and I am not a whole man. Life with me would not be easy. You're sixteen—"

Her eyes began to gleam with betrayed tears. "I'm not."

"Every magical measure says you are," he said firmly. "It's not a horrible thing to be, sixteen. I think you might be better off considering boys closer to your own age. You deserve someone you can hold hands with in public, who can take you to dances."

She pulled her hands away to make a gesture of frustration. "I don't care about the stupid dance!"

He had trouble believing that. She had been bringing it up since her fourth year, and by her own confession, fixated on it for much of her imprisonment. His first kiss had been bought with a dress. "Persephone, if you feel that way in two years when you've finished school, we can talk about it. But I'll still be twenty years older than you. People will remember you were a student when I was a professor, and they won't accept it. It will reflect badly on us and the school."

"I don't care," she repeated but with less vigor.

"I care," Severus said softly but with a note of finality. He stood and moved to put the corner of the desk between them. "Now, go away. Don't come to my office unless it's a school matter."

The unshed tears in her eyes were killing him. "I'll wait for you."

"Go."

She turned on her heels and ran out.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Later that evening she walked into the Great Hall with her nephew for dinner. Harry gave her a one armed hug before leaving her at the Slytherin table. Severus wondered how it would feel to watch her walk in with a boy who was not her nephew.

Her sixth year friends were quick to surround her. Persephone's eyes made contact with his as she settled into her seat. The misery in them made him want to abandon the high table and run across the Great Hall to comfort her. But responsible adults did not do such things. He needed to be the responsible adult, so she could have a chance to be sixteen.

Her friend Laurel picked up on Persephone's melancholy and put a comforting arm around her. Laurel was generally a good girl, which made her continued association with Theodore Nott all the more disappointing. He did not trust Nott's motivations, and he had seen the results of hasty unions a few years down the road. The aftermath was always messy. The girls often bore the worst of the fallout, since they were the ones that bore the babies. The rare couple struggle through and made it, but they were always a fall back subject when gossip was dry. He wanted better than that for Persephone.

As much as he wanted her, he loved her more. Love meant doing what was best for her. If that meant putting distance between them to preserve her purity, he would do that. There would be no touching.

oOo

* * *

oOo

He made love to her that night.

She climbed into his bed, ghostly pale against the dark sheets, and kissed his resolve away.

It was only a dream, of course. He had had several dreams of that nature over the years of her absence, but her return had provided his mind with fresh material and produced a far more vivid fantasy. Waking from these dreams had always been painfully disappointing, but now that disappointment was mixed with guilt and overwhelming awkwardness. Her absence had allowed him private indulgence, but to see her sitting alone at breakfast, playing listlessly with her spoon, made him feel like a dirty old man.

Her bleak mood continued through the next Potions class. She said nothing, but her mournful eyes watched him. He avoided her table, so he was not tempted to give her a reassuring touch. Such momentary kindness would only cause her more confusion.

He told himself that it would get better with time. He had seen enough romantic disappointment at Hogwarts to know that the tears faded. No student had ever died from a broken heart. Despite their claims, the world had not ended. Most of them who declared they would never be happy again were smiling by the end of the week.

oOo

* * *

oOo

He played a game of wizard's chess with Professor Dumbledore on Saturday night.

When he told the head of the Order about his decision not to answer the Dark Lord's summons, Albus recommended he not leave the castle alone, particularly at night. He did not tell Dumbledore about Persephone's warning. She hated her talent so much it felt like a betrayal to bring attention to it. Instead he told the headmaster that he had come to recognize some old code of Lucius's that warned him the Dark Lord had slated him for death. Dumbledore said nothing, but Severus saw he was disappointed.

Whether or not he had been wise to skip the summons, the Dark Lord certainly wanted him dead now. Filch had already intercepted one attempt to poison him through the owl post. Charles Warrington, not realizing Severus had recognized him despite the Death Eater mask, had sent him a lunch invitation.

This meant no more meetings with the Grey Beards. Between their absence and Persephone's he was feeling very lonely. He had gone to the headmaster's office under the pretence of discussing Order business and received an invitation to play a game. Their games often took hours. They were slow players and tended to wander into discussions over recent articles from academic publications. It was better than being alone in his room, but Severus found his attention slipping.

"Idiot," his rook muttered at him.

"Knight take pawn." Severus order his pieces. The knight did as told.

"Queen take rook," Dumbledore said cheerfully.

"You did that on _purpose_!" the rook protested as the queen sent him sprawling off the board.

"You know Muggle chess sets are silent," he said as much to the pieces as his opponent.

"Really?" said the headmaster. "How clever."

oOo

* * *

oOo

February saw the predicted improvement in her mood. She was still somber in their classes, but no longer seemed on the verge of tears. He tried to take comfort that this meant he had done the right thing. On Valentine's Day, she came to dinner with a white rose in her hair, no doubt from some admirer. He asked Sinistra if she knew who and was advised to ask her himself.

He wrote Moonstone University to see if they were in want of any professors. They wrote back to say they were fully staffed but might consider him for future positions. The letter asked if he had any practical experience outside the classroom.

He did but was unsure how to list it on a resume. To finance his search for Persephone, he had made potions for the Death Eaters. Lucius had set him up with a laboratory in an upper suite over the apothecary shop. He would be sent a list of things to brew, and he had brewed whatever was on the list. Poisons, antidotes, salves, serums, unctions, and solutions, he never questioned how they were used. Nor had he been told in so many words who he was brewing for, but that much was obvious. He left the completed potions on a shelf, money would appear for the work he had done. He was never entirely sure who had been paying him, though he believed Lucius oversaw the arrangement.

He had been allowed to come and go as he pleased. There was a pallet in the corner he had slept on many nights to avoid the tether of an apartment. While he had his reservations about the Death Eaters even then, he told himself they could easily find another potion maker if he refused. He was no more involved than the baker who made their bread.

The Dark Lord had demanded a more active role from him after he officially joined the Death Eaters. But how did you put look-out, spy, and double agent on a resume? How did you give references when the wizards who knew first hand the quality of your work were dead, on the run, or in Azkaban?

He doubted Dumbledore would be thrilled by the idea of him running off to America either. The headmaster was already in negotiations with the governors to raise the salary offer to attract a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He would not relish having to find a new Potions master as well. Dumbledore was not a petty man, but he was fighting a war. Severus had doubts about getting a glowing recommendation from someone who did not want him to leave.

The employment anxieties were not helping his insomnia which seemed to grow steadily worse. He was drifting through his classes on automatic. None of the students seemed to mind, though Draco kept giving him a sad look when he was not staring at Hermione Granger. His pretense with Pansy Parkinson had come to an end. The two Slytherin prefects were going to great lengths not to speak to each other. Severus felt echoes of relief and concern over this, as though the feeling were not really there, but he knew he ought to be feeling them.

He made the mistake of placing his hand on Persephone's table while checking her potion. Her fingers slid over his. Her thumb caressed a cuticle before he remembered it did not belong there. He snatched his hand away and moved to the next table, trying to act as though nothing had happened and doing a fair job at staying expressionless.

When he returned to the front of the room and faced the class, he saw she was struggling not to cry and losing the battle. She hurried out of the classroom when the bell rang.

He had to remind himself why he was being cold but worried he had gone too far. Hurting her made him feel wretched and unworthy, but distance was the only defense he knew.

oOo

* * *

oOo

He had tried to be a Death Eater without being a Death Eater, as though he could slip through the cracks in the war and not really get involved with it. But that was a childish fantasy, and the Dark Lord had no patience for the timid.

"Come along, Severus," Rabastan Lestrange had demanded, while tossing him a Death Eater's robe and mask. "The Dark Lord wants you on this mission."

While Severus did not have the same fanatical awe of Lord Voldemort that some Death Eaters held, he had seen first hand what happened to those who disappointed and disobeyed. Regulus had already panicked and died. Severus knew if he died there would be no one left to look for Persephone, so he did his best to ride out this tide of history without drowning in it.

The Order of the Phoenix was fighting a losing battle. They had entered too late in the game, and were hopelessly outnumbered. Sunk deep in his own depression, Severus watched the war like a chess match. Intellectually, he knew that the Death Eaters were killing and controlling Muggles and wizards alike in their efforts to advance their politics, but he did not have enough heart left to be compelled to do anything about it. The Order was merely delaying the inevitable.

He followed Rabastan, Rosier, and Nott to a house on a Muggle street and was relieved to be told to wait outside. "Guard the back door," Rosier told him, and Severus slipped around back to hide in the bushes.

Within minutes, sounds of a brief but intense battle inside the house could be heard. Flashes of green and red could be seen through the windows. The back door flung open and Severus could see the form of two women squeezing through it. He stood, lifting his wand to guard the door like ordered.

A hoarse cry came from one of the women. "We can't leave them!"

"It's too late!" the second voice, strained but strong, was one Severus recognized. "We have to get out!" Lily shot another spell back into the house, while she pulled her Muggle sister through the door. "REDUCTO!"

There was a loud crash and yells from inside. Severus stepped forward and stopped. He held his wand steady. The blonde woman stumbled out, clinging to Lily's arm and sobbing, "Mum! Dad!" in a desperate way.

Lily turned, ran two steps and stopped short. Severus could see her face by the house lights. He was camouflaged in the shadows but knew she had seen him too. The look in her green eyes...that look still haunted him. The fierce hate and disgust that cried _murderer!, _broke through his haze and made him realize he was on the wrong side of this war. His wand drifted back down.

Lily sensed his hesitation and gave her sister a push towards the back gate while bringing her own wand to bear. "Run, Petunia!" She walked slowly toward the gate herself, keeping the wand between them and frowning suspiciously.

Severus heard movement from the house. He could not kill Lily, but he knew simply letting her go would mean his own death. He lifted his own wand and more loudly and slowly than necessary said "_Avada_—" Thankfully, Lily was quick, and it was obvious to no one else that he had never planned to utter the second word in the killing curse. Her stunner knocked him to the ground, and the next thing he remembered was a concerned Rabastan hauling him to his feet.

"You hurt?" asked Rabastan. His attitude towards Severus had changed now that they both had the Dark Mark. Kind would be the wrong word. Severus could best describe it as chummy.

"No," Severus said, grateful that the mask hid his expression. "Did we get her?"

Rabastan shook his head. "Left a message at least." He pointed his wand to the sky and muttered. "_MORSMORDRE!_" A glittering but morbid image of a skull with a snake coming out of its mouth appeared in the sky above the house. Severus had been told Persephone's disappearance was part of the reason the Death Eaters had started marking their kills. The Dark Lord wanted to keep the message pure and avoid being blamed for things he had not ordered. "Let's get out of here."

The war became real to him that night. He felt hopelessly trapped on the wrong side of things, but he saw no alternative. The Order was dying. The Death Eaters were winning; their roots in the Ministry grew deeper day by day. Despairing of a happy ending, he delved into dark magic as a new venue for his search. He called on powers he had wisely avoided in his youth. They left his soul battered and bruised but yielded no answers for him, only cruelly tantalizing illusions.

He stumbled into Diagon Alley after his last attempt, feeling drained beyond measure. The dark magic had not physically altered him, but it had fundamentally changed him. He always felt weighted afterwards, tarnished, as though he was dragging around a heavy shadow.

Persephone's father found him near the Leaky Cauldron. Severus huddled in his robes, feeling like Henry Potter's kind eyes could see straight through him. "Hello, Severus," Mr. Potter had said in a careful voice like one might use with the mentally ill. Maybe he looked as hollow and drawn as he felt. "I was headed home for dinner. Won't you join me?"

Oddly hungry, Severus had been on a bleary quest for dinner, and nodded at the welcome offer.

Mrs. Potter did not look thrilled to see him, but he had not seen her smile since her daughter's disappearance. It was not his first time in the Potter's home. He had never been there before Persephone had vanished, but he had been over a few times to ask questions, see if anyone had threatened them or demanded a ransom. The first time, Mrs. Potter had blamed herself, not for any rational reason, but for things like giving her daughter an ill fated name or causing her Silver Child condition. She was no longer openly weeping, as she had during that original visit, but had settled into a grim grace.

There were pictures tastefully scattered about the living room from James's wedding. Severus hoped Lily was as happy as she looked in the photographs.

"I bumped into your father today at the Ministry," Mr. Potter told him over the soup. "He's worried about you."

Severus gave him a skeptical look and swallowed a mouthful of warm bread. "He said that?"

Henry Potter was a chronically honest person. "Tobias isn't one to flaunt family matters, but he asked if I had seen you lately, and expressed some concerns over what you've been doing."

"What does he know about what I've been doing?" Severus asked, curious and defensive, but cautious enough to keep most of it out of his voice.

"Not very much, which is what I think concerns him," Mr. Potter said kindly.

"Only thing he ever asks me is whether I've found a position yet," Severus explained.

"How are you supporting yourself?"

"I've been brewing Potions for people," Severus told him. "It's flexible, so I can keep looking."

Mrs. Potter flinched. Severus thought he may have brought up a painful reminder, but a look at Mr. Potter's face told him this was part of the reason he had been invited to dinner.

"Severus, we want you to stop looking," Mrs. Potter said gently. Severus understood what he had taken earlier for repulsion was at least equal parts concern. "It's been three years. James and Lily are expecting now, and I think Persephone would want you to move on with your life too. You were so dear to her, she'd want you to be happy."

Severus blinked at her. He choked down his opinion of James, and the protestation that he considered finding Persephone and finding happiness to be the same pursuit. He did not want to burden them any further, but he did want them to understand and said stubbornly, "I'm not giving up on her."

"We're not asking you to give up hope, Severus," said Mr. Potter. "We're not giving up hope. But we want you to be practical. If you wait too long, your N.E.W.T. scores won't be enough to impress anymore. You need an employment history, one you can report. You need to take care of yourself. It seems like you're fading away, and we don't want to lose you too."

Severus did not know what to say to this and took a long drink of his pumpkin juice.

"Persephone used to tell us that you were interested in being an Auror," Mr. Potter continued in a heartening voice. "Why don't you try applying to the program? The Ministry has considerable resources. What more can you hope to do on your own?"

Severus had considered this option early on and still had the same answer for dismissing it. "The Auror program has three years of training, and after that they would assign my cases. They might not even let me work this one _because_ I have a history with her. Besides, the Ministry is too busy trying to keep the Muggles from finding out there's a war on to devote the resources for a proper search, and there are avenues of searching they'll refuse to explore—" He stopped himself.

Demetria Potter had narrowed her eyes at him. "Some avenues should remain unexplored. There are limits, Severus. The Dark Arts earned that name for a reason. These Death Eaters tried to recruit James and his friends too, and I heard some of the things they promised. But there's always a cost. Look at how our world is paying for it! It would break Persephone's heart to see what some of her old friends have fallen into. I don't want you involved in anything that's going to put you in Azkaban, and I don't want you to even consider using dark magic to look for her. The cost is too high."

Severus felt his insides wriggle but did not want to concede easily. "Even if it's the only way to find her?"

"Yes," Demetria said firmly. "I want my daughter back, Severus, but at least I'm not worried about her soul. And I want her to come back to a world worth living in."

Henry Potter reached out to place a comforting hand on his wife's arm. "We're not accusing you of anything, Severus. But this-this Lord Voldemort, he's targeting the young and displaced to build his ranks. He offers them an illusion of power that is building real power for him, and we don't want to see you fall victim to that. He's already killed Sirius's little brother, and Regulus was loyal to him"

Severus's dead insides seemed to be full of worms, and his arm pained him at the sound of the Dark Lord's name. But he did his best to look thoughtful and appropriately grateful for the warning. What good did it do them to know he had already fallen for Lord Voldemort lies? "I won't make the same mistake," he promised and knew it would be easy to keep. Regulus had refused to betray his brother, and Severus had no brother to betray.

While Demetria kept a remnant of skepticism on her brow for the rest of the meal, his promise seemed to ease Henry Potter's mind. He smiled warmly at Severus and encouraged him to eat second helpings of everything.

It was the last time he saw Henry Potter alive.

oOo

* * *

oOo

He had drifted off while sitting at his desk, not quite asleep, but not awake either. A small giggle from the corner roused him. "Funny how I look this way for you too."

"Persephone?" he asked, unsure he was not dreaming. She seemed a little taller, too perfect, and while it was not impossible she had experienced a growth spurt while he was keeping her at arms length, there was something off.

She smiled and stepped out of the shadows. She was not wearing her school robes, but one of her more Muggle-style outfits with a not quite knee length skirt, high socks, collared white shirt, and a Slytherin tie loosely draped about her neck. She seemed to be copying body language that was more appropriate to Daphne Greengrass, moving her hips more as she walked and playing her hand along the edge of her open collar. One side of her mouth twitched as her silver eyes considered him. "I'm not Persephone," she said in a voice that sounded very like his silver girl's.

Severus scowled. The situation seemed dreamlike, but he felt awake. "Who are you then?" He had a small worry Persephone was trying some ill advised game, but there was something wrong that prickled his skin.

She lifted her chin, taking cruel delight in his discomfort. "Persephone calls me Kagome. I guess you can too." Severus could think of many reasons why someone might try to impersonate Persephone but not why they would confess it or claim she had named them. Kagome's grin took on feral aspect, but she spoke in practical tones. "I'm a boggart, and I know what you're afraid of."

"I'm not afraid of Persephone," he said, slowly reaching his hand below his desk to retrieve the wand from his pocket.

The intruder made no move to stop him but continued her progress towards his desk. "No, you're afraid of losing control." She wove subtly with each word like a cobra. "That perfect, rigid, unrelenting control. You remember what happens when it slips, and you're terrified of it. You're afraid if you indulge with the thing you want the most, you won't be able to stop."

He held himself rigid as she spoke, refusing to betray his rising heart rate to this creature. She placed her palms on the arms of his chair, trapping him, but he had his wand in hand now and held it between them. "Don't touch me."

Kagome put a finger on the tip of his wand and ran down its length. "I could touch you all over." Her finger reached his, and they were solid and soft like Persephone's. She pulled them back, both startled and intrigued by the contact. Kagome...the boggart with Persephone's face, softened her expression into longing. "Come on, Severus. Think about it. You've given me the ability to touch, to feel just like her. I could touch you all over, and nobody would ever know."

The image came unbidden to his mind. Frozen by a congealing mix of horror, revulsion, and, to his deepest disgust, temptation...and curiosity, he could only give voice to his strongest objection. "Persephone..." He dare not cause her more pain.

The boggart shrugged and gave him a sly pout. "I won't tell her if you don't. I just want to touch something again." She reached out a hand for him, and he jerked back.

"DON'T TOUCH ME."

"Fine. You're no fun." Sounding mildly disappointed, the boggart, Kagome-not-Persephone, straightened up and took a step back, while it shot him a condescending look. "You know she's never going to touch you, don't you? You're too old. Too wrinkly. Too worn. She's young and fresh, and she can have any boy she wants. Why on earth would she want you?"

"Get out!" he growled. He knew she was boggart and preying on his worst fears as boggarts do, but it felt like she was scraping rusty nails across his heart.

"Soon enough." She shot him a coy smile as though his pain pleased her. "Don't get me wrong, I'm rather fond of Persephone. I just like you better. You let me talk _and_ touch."

Severus had been trying to remember the spell for repelling the creature, but this distracted him. "You talk to her?"

Kagome, the boggart, twisted playfully, Persephone's silver hair sliding across her shoulders. "Mm...hm. First friend I've had in ages. I've just come back from doing her a favor." She smoothed her skirt and peaked at him from under silver lashes. "Thought she might come down to this part of the dungeon. And then I smelled your fear, and Severus, you're absolutely delicious."

"_Ridik_—"

"No! No! I'll leave. Please?" There was genuine terror or a reasonably facsimile of it in the creature's eyes now, and since they looked just like Persephone's pleading eyes, it was impossible to finish the spell. Kagome backed away, sulking. "Just tell Persephone the answer to her question is 'Harry Potter'."

"_Harry Potter?_" Severus repeated. "What was the question?"

Kagome stopped and glared at him coldly. "Wouldn't you like to know!" Any lingering doubts that she might be human vanished as the creature melted into shadow and shot under the narrow crack in the door.

oOo

* * *

oOo

After a few minutes to calm down and a trip to the lavatory to splash cold water on his face, Severus checked the time and walked up to the Great Hall.

He found the real Persephone deep in whispered conversation with his cousin Millicent. He placed a hand on the table to steady himself and draw her attention. "You made friends with a boggart?" he asked in a sharp, measured tone.

She smiled up at him sheepishly. It had been the first time in months he had been this close and not had the desire to hug her. Draco was watching curiously, but Severus ignored him. He wanted to yell a lot of things that would not have made sense to anyone. Instead he said, "In the future would you kindly keep it away from my office."

Persephone winced apologetically. "Sorry." Her expression became mildly perplexed. He knew she was wondering what form the boggart had taken. "She spoke to you then?"

"Yes," said Severus. He would let her keep wondering and hoped her _friend _never admitted its betrayal. He struggled for a moment over whether he should deliver the message but decided failing to do so might invite another visit. "Kagome says the answer to your question is Harry Potter."

"Really?" said Persephone, her interest clearly piqued.

"Really," Severus said flatly and continued on to the staff table. He had never been this angry with her. Knowing it was irrational only made him more irritated.

oOo

* * *

**Notes:**

**1**. _Order of the Phoenix_ Chapter 28


	9. Young Again

**Severus Snape and the Last Year**

By Carla Lute

**Notes: **If you want to go with the zippered, semi-chronological reading of the Last Year levels, you would read Level 3.6 right after Level 2.11: The Choice (aka Chapter 18).

Special Thanks to Imbeni for beta testing.

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on the Harry Potter novels written by J.K. Rowling. All characters created by J.K. Rowling are owned by J.K. Rowling. The few characters created by me (i.e. Persephone, Hotchet, Kagome…) belong to me, but are available for use in other fics as long as I get credited as their creator. None of us are making any money off this and no infringement is intended.

* * *

oOo

**Level 3.9: Young Again**

February melted into March which warmed into April. Persephone's eyes dried. Despite having both Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger as her dedicated tutors, she became lethargic with her class work, punishing him by doing a bare minimum. She seemed to be dedicating all her energy to her clubs. Due to his warning late last term, she had allowed her Forum to focus on topics less likely to spark Voldemort's ire, but it had lost its caution and gained fresh momentum. He was worried and impressed by how many children of Death Eaters she managed to keep involved. Sinistra and Vector had been so curious that they set up an eavesdropping spell, so that the Forum discussions could be heard in the staff room.

Several of the staff members lingered there to listen Thursday nights after dinner. Severus brought a book to read but curiosity and a desire to hear her voice drew him as well. He had always thought her clever in her own way, but the way she handled her Forum impressed him. Sometimes she was very direct with her topics like "How Can We Be Prepared to Defend Ourselves in the Case of a Death Eater Attack?". But even when she set topics like "The State of the Wizarding Economy" and "Advances in Healing", somehow she was able to guide the other students to make their own parallels between peace and prosperity.

She let other students do most of the talking (it was nice to know Mr. Nott and Ms. Hedgebottom had more in common than the desire to undress each other), but clearly did enough research to make insightful comments and provide a bit of background. Listening to her skillfully defuse shouting matches and just as skillfully encourage heated debates, made Severus think she might manage to make her career out of talking after all.

She was blooming. Without him around to weigh her down, she was coming into her own.

Her nephew had undoubtedly brought her into his little resistance group. They called it Dumbledore's Army, but it was Potter's Army. Privately Severus thought it was the most intelligent thing Harry Potter had ever done. He did not like the idea of students fighting, but he wanted them prepared to fight. Voldemort had demonstrated many times that he had no compunctions about targeting children.

Potter and Patil used their head boy and girl status to introduce "emergency plans" in case the school was attacked. They were simple but showed awareness and forethought. If Potter could also learn caution and patience, he might stand a chance after all.

Draco on the other hand distracted the school gossips by making a fool of himself over Hermione Granger. Initially, Severus dismissed the rumors he overheard as speculative and exaggerated, but Draco showed up for Potions class early in April with an additional badge fixed to his robes directly under the prefect one. "What does S.E.E. stand for?" Severus asked him.

Draco went pink but spoke clearly. "The Society for Elvin Empowerment." A few students close enough to hear stifled snickers. Ms. Parkinson made an unflattering sound.

"Do Crabbe and Goyle know that?" he asked, doubting their fathers would approve of the badges they had been sporting at lunch.

"Of course they do," Draco said with feigned brightness. "Would you like a badge, sir?"

"No thank you." Professor Snape brought his questions back to the progress of Draco's experiment but saw him shoot an approvement seeking glance at Ms. Granger, who smiled and shook her head.

He worried about Draco making even more a target of himself but figured Ms. Granger had a better chance of getting Draco to join the Order than he did. As long as they were not pawing each other, Severus stayed out of his student's romantic affairs. As Mr. Nott had suggested, he was not "one to talk" in this area.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Severus finally broke down and asked Pomfrey for a sleeping Potion. After the incident with the boggart, he had developed the habit of making a thorough search of his quarters before bed. The creature did not bother him again, perhaps Persephone did have some sway with it, but the increased paranoia had made sleep nearly impossible. He gave in when the words of the third years' essays he was supposed to be grading blurred into an unreadable mass of squiggly lines.

He wished Pomfrey would give him a sleeping draught that allowed him to avoid dreams, but she insisted dreaming was an important part of the natural cycle.

His dreams were strange, oddly lengthened and clarified by the draught. Some of them presented him with a world so perfect that waking was painfully disappointing. Others mocked him with bizarre mixtures of exaggerated anxieties. In one, he and Persephone were raising an eight year old Harry who kept calling him Uncle Snape and yelling "You're not my father!" whenever something upset him, until Severus locked him in a cupboard with insides that resembled his own childhood bedroom. In another, he found himself going to great lengths to help Persephone conceal a growing belly under her school robes, then wondering if he was actually the father since he had no memory of intimacy with her. He had dreams that crossed into nightmare territory, like Lucius wrangling an invitation to his son's wedding, but only so he could kill the bride. Severus puzzled out the plot but found himself trapped searching an endless maze of halls, unable to find the intended victim to deliver a warning.

He lost count of how many times Lord Voldemort killed him or someone he liked inside his head. But the dream that made his skin crawl the most, involved Persephone returning during his Death Eaters days and marrying Lupin, because in a lapse of judgment he had already married Bellatrix Lestrange.

Some dreams were more like memories.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Demetria Potter's strong words, combined with a concerned comment from Lucius that he might be over doing it, had been enough to turn him off trying anymore dark magic. His experiments had left his nerves frayed, but he had learned to mask his weakness. It was a matter of survival.

Early in career as a Death Eater, the Dark Lord decided that he wanted a man at Hogwarts, and Dumbledore was reportedly hiring for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Lucius nominated him, citing his perfect N.E.W.T. scores and extensive theoretical knowledge of the Dark Arts. While Hogwarts was one of the last places on earth he wanted to be, Severus pretended to be honored by the choice. Refusing the Dark Lord was unhealthy.

Severus had attempted to eavesdrop on Sybill Trelawney's interview for the extremely unglamorous reason that, at nineteen, he had never had an interview before and wanted to know what to expect. He had been surprised as anyone to hear her voice change and start a melodramatic prediction about the Dark Lord's demise at the hands of some newborn savior. It was a good performance, and he had been so rapt that he had not heard the tavern owner approach to drag him away from the door.

A few minutes later, he found himself spluttering out an embarrassed, though thoroughly honest explanation for his eavesdropping to a very skeptical Dumbledore. The headmaster had told him rather coldly that his services would not be needed at Hogwarts.

Afraid to return empty handed, Severus reported what he had overheard to the Dark Lord. Having heard so many real predictions that sounded nothing like the strange deep voiced rasping from Trelawney, he had not put much stock in it. Unfortunately Lord Voldemort took the matter more seriously. He was not foolish or paranoid enough to start hunting pregnant women. At first the Dark Lord asked only for Severus's silence on the matter, which he was quick to promise; though when Narcissa's pregnancy was announced, he did give Lucius a warning.

Later he sometimes wondered if her difficult birth and subsequent miscarriages had been due to magical means used to delay labor. He had never been tactless enough to ask.

After July however, almost a year after Severus had overheard half a Prophecy, the Dark Lord had asked Lucius for a report on recent births. Severus had been present. The Dark Lord had been keeping him close at that time; Severus liked to think for intelligent conversation but suspected he did not want news of the Prophecy spreading too far. It had not been an entirely miserable time. Lord Voldemort was a fount of obscure magical subjects. He had spent several years traveling the world and returned with many intriguing stories. He had no trouble understanding Severus's intellectual vocabulary and spoke of power and loyalty without the burden and complication of repressive ethics. Consequently he was also a dealer in dark magic and had encouraged the experiments that had come to worry the Potters. Even so, Severus had almost come to like him and certainly learned to respect him.

Lucius's short report had brought this to an abrupt end. There were only a handful of magical births around that time period, and the two at the very tail end of July belonged to known Order members. "July 30th Neville Longbottom, born to Frank and Alice Longbottom. July 31st Harry Potter, born to James and Lily Potter."

The Dark Lord's ears had perked up at the last. "Demetria Potter's grandchild?"

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius answered with a perfect mask of calm.

Severus was struggling with his. Half a memory crept over him like a lethifold. "You're certain they named him Harry, not Henry after the grandfather?" he asked, trying to sound casual, but he saw the Dark Lord's lip curl in disgust.

"Yes, they named him Harry. My source at St. Mungo's brought me copies of the birth certificates." There was a note of irritation in Lucius's voice. He did not like having the accuracy of his reports questioned.

Severus tried to look apologetic and unconcerned as though this had been a matter of mild curiosity, but his insides felt like ice. _You have to protect Harry. Promise me you'll protect Harry. _He remembered making the promise while gazing into a pair of silver eyes late one night in the Slytherin common room, but he could not remember the rest of Persephone's dream. There had been something about it that he had dismissed as impossible. But Harry? How had she come up with the name Harry? James could have told her he liked it, that was possible. But still he had promised. He had promised her he would protect her nephew, protect Harry, and instead he had signed his death warrant.

"My Lord," Lucius said. "I do think we should consider the possibility that Trelawney was merely putting on a performance for a potential employer. There are rumors that Dumbledore was planning to do away with the subject of Divination entirely." Severus nodded. He had already expressed similar thoughts.

"Even so," said Lord Voldemort in a reasonable tone. "Dumbledore will try to use this against me to bolster support for his Order of the Phoenix. We can use the Department of Mysteries to determine if this is valid Prophecy. I want you to get a man down there. Meanwhile, we will keep close watch on the Potters and the Longbottoms. Between the two, Lily and James have only directly defied me twice. I may give James one more chance before I lower myself to killing infants."

"I volunteer to track them, my Lord," Severus said quickly, and Lord Voldemort smiled.

"I admire your enthusiasm, Severus, but I haven't forgotten why you came to me in the first place." He tapped a long pale finger. Lord Voldemort had not been as snake like at that time as he would be when he later emerged from the cauldron at Riddle Manor. But his eyes were red, and his hair prematurely white. "You will tail Neville Longbottom. Don't let them know what you're doing, but I want to know where he is at all times."

Severus was sent out before he could learn who else had been given similar missions. He had a talent for being invisible, but dodging two Aurors on their guard and Neville's endless parade of extended family was not easy work. He kept crossing paths with Sirius Black and Barty Crouch Jr. both of whom seemed to have their own talent for spotting him. Alastor Moody still had two legs, both eyes, and his whole nose at the time and seemed to be everywhere. He had already killed two Death Eaters and hauled three more off to Azkaban. Two of them had been released on technicalities, but Moody was one of the few Aurors that made those who bore the Dark Mark truly nervous.

He had cornered Severus twice, roughly barking questions at him, and making it clear he was a suspect. He seemed to lack enough hard evidence, or perhaps anything beyond vague suspicions, but Severus still felt a shudder run down his spine every time Moody growled, "I've got my eye on you," before storming off. Severus suspected Moody had made some of his captures simply by goading wizards into attacking him.

Following baby Neville was a miserable time. It was easy enough to blend in on Diagon Alley. But staking out the remote Lancashire farm where the family resided meant long insomnia filled nights under concealment spells and an open air tent that allowed him a clear view through Omnioculars. It was tedious work since the new parents were reluctant to travel much with the infant. When they did leave, they generally left Neville in his grandparent's care. He made notes of visitors and nearly every sign of movement, more to give himself something to do than because he thought it useful.

He spent most of his time trying to figure out how to warn them without betraying himself to the Dark Lord's other spies or being hauled straight to Azkaban. However grateful the Longbottoms might be for the warning, it seemed unlikely that two Aurors would be willing to just let a confessed Death Eater go.

Two weeks in the Potters arrived for a visit, and Severus decided this was his best chance. They came by floo. Baby Harry was heavily swaddled so he would not breath in any soot. The Death Eaters had someone in the floo network office who might be able to track their travel and report back to whoever was supposed to be watching the Potters, but it would take time.

Severus slunk down as close to the Longbottoms' garden as he dare go. Neville's grandmother seemed quite insistent on giving all her visitors a tour. Lily and James did come out with both babies, both Aurors, and both grandparents. Severus hung back, weighing self-preservation against keeping his promise. It annoyed him to see James look so happy, like he had forgotten his sister. Then again with a wife like Lily and a healthy new baby it was probably hard not to smile.

Lily, being the polite and helpful guest that she was, came out after dinner to empty a bucket of table scraps into the compost pile.

"_Evans_," he hissed quietly from his hiding place in the bush. "_Evans...Lily!_" She twitched at the sound of her name and pulled out her wand.

He took a small step out of his concealment. "It's Potter now," she said softly as she pointed her wand in his direction.

"_Sorry_," he said irritably.

"What do you want, Snape? Come to kill me again?"

He froze.

"I recognized your voice," Lily said coolly. He swallowed. "I also saw you hesitate."

"I wasn't going to kill you," he whispered quickly. "I just needed to make it look...look, I came to warn you."

Lily narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Severus knew she was considering whether she should call out to the others, which would be sensible, but they both knew James was unlikely to want to hear him out and the Longbottoms would be obligated to make an arrest.

Severus raised his hands slowly to show he was not holding a wand and spoke quickly. "Dumbledore knows why. There was a prophecy. The Dark Lord thinks it could mean Harry or Neville."

Lily did not look as surprised as she might be. "Go on."

Severus made another check to see if there was sign of anyone else in the garden. "He's trying to verify it as real prophecy, but I'm not sure it matters. If he thinks Dumbledore can use them to give his enemies hope, he'll probably still come after them."

"Why are you warning me?" asked Lily.

"The Dark Lord said he was going to give James another chance, but I know James. He won't bow."

Lily smiled, and her face softened. "No, he won't, but that's not what I meant. You're a Death Eater, remember? I'm a Mudblood. Aren't you supposed to want me dead?"

"That's not why..." Severus glanced nervously at the window. The longer the spoke, the more likely he would get caught. "You're Persephone's family."

Lily winced sympathetically and glanced back quickly in James' direction. "Snape," she said quickly. "I never thought you were as bad as the others. If you're having a change of heart, you could really help us."

"I just came to warn you," he said. "Please let me go."

Lily grimaced with disappointment but nodded. "Get out of here," she said and began backing towards the house.

Severus did not need to be told twice and slipped away into the shadows.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Dueling Club was about the only thing he looked forward to these days, but after the Hufflepuff boy lost his ears, Professor Flitwick became more actively involved. A first Severus did not mind. He liked Professor Flitwick, and the small man had many interesting and educational stories from his champion dueling days. He had thought, considering that the boy's ears had been restored and there were no further significant injuries, that this would be a temporary situation and Professor Flitwick would fade off after a few weeks as he had during the first term. But participating was far more entertaining for Flitwick than watching had been. Rather than fading off, he was gradually taking over. With another wizard Severus might have suspect this had been the plan all along, but Filius Flitwick, while quite sharp, was an uncomplicated person without an underhanded bone in his body. Since Flitwick was better and more experienced, Severus felt there was little he could do but step aside.

Best he could tell, none of the students minded, except perhaps Victoria who eyed Flitwick with increasing suspicion. Though this may have been because he was not as encouraging of her unusual tactics and spent more time on the faltering students than the ones leading the pack.

He spent his Easter holiday quietly making arrangements with Dumbledore and the Ministry to spirit Victoria and her brother off to a safer haven once the summer term had ended. The Ministry official insisted on an interview with Victoria and Thomas before she would sign off on the plan. Severus sat in and listened while Victoria detailed her father's behavior and Thomas nodded.

He wished he could offer to take the children in himself, but he had no place to take them. Even if he bought that cottage, he was far too much of a target. As they had decided it was best to find a place to hide them before Mudada Dey was made aware of the situation, the Ministry returned with the idea of trying to lose them in a crowd of children at a Muggle orphanage and using a Fidelius Charm as an extra level of protection.

The Ministry had enough of a case to arrest Mudada but finding him was proving difficult. His wife kept an address on the Wolds but like Narcissa insisted she had not seen her husband in several months.

Severus ran the orphanage idea past Victoria, unsure how she would react to living with Muggles, even if it was only for a couple months during the summer. "Thomas and I would be together?" she asked, her face trained to betray little. Severus nodded. "Then that is best," she agreed.

"If your father is captured by the Ministry and sent to Azkaban where he can't hurt you, would you want to return to your mother?" Severus asked.

A flicker of concern passed over Victoria's face, and she shook her head. "She does not protect us."

oOo

* * *

oOo

"Severus, stay away from Diagon Alley tonight," Lucius had spoken in a very quiet, very serious voice.

Naturally curious, Severus asked, "Why?"

The Longbottoms had refused to go into hiding, though they kept a guard of family members around baby Neville at all times and never took him outside the farm house any further than the garden. After another week of tedious watching, the Dark Lord had allowed him to come back and continue his brewing. He was enjoying the novelty of sleeping indoors and having a chance to read.

Lucius flinched. "I overheard..." he made a furtive look around, no doubt checking if anyone else was close enough to overhear him. "The Dark Lord gave James Potter his last chance. There's nothing you can do, Severus. It's best if you're not seen in the area."

More than curious now, Severus put aside his book. "He's going after the baby?"

Lucius stiffened, clearly worried he may have said too much already. "I have to get back to Narcissa. Please, Severus, stay away." He left quickly. Severus had no chance to question him further.

There was a time when he might have heeded a warning from Lucius without question, but he had promised Persephone. If there was anything he could do to protect little Harry, he needed to do it. Having been forced to dedicate his time to the Longbottoms he had no idea where James and Lily had tried to hole up. Diagon Alley seemed like a foolish choice, but whatever was happening was happening there. He wrapped himself in a dark, hooded robe and went to hide in the shadows of wizarding London.

As dusk settled Diagon Alley was quiet, even the denizens of the night were skulking more quietly into the vampire pub. Several of the shops were deserted here and on Knockturn. Harfang had closed his shop in June and taken an extended business trip to consult with foreign publishers. It was a warm night at the end of August now.

Severus watched with morbid anticipation as the sky grew darker. Clouds were gathering, promising a storm. He looked up at the flash of what he first thought to be lightning but quickly realized was the Dark Mark. He was too late. It was hovering in the sky, green stars glittering against the clouds overhead. But it was too far away to be one of the shops on Diagon Alley. He ran. It would have been wiser to accept his failure and retreat, but he ran towards the mark. He had to cut through the Leaky Cauldron. Few patrons had lingered this late, but he paid little attention to the two remaining. His heart was threatening to seize up.

There was only one family he knew in the area where the mark was hovering. "No," he whispered as though in some vain hope that his protest might stop what had happened. He ran down the streets of Muggle London not worried about the looks he was drawing from the pedestrians. The door to the Potter's house was standing open. Severus ran inside, fear turning his veins to ice. He found Mr. and Mrs. Potter lying on the floor of the living room. At first, he thought they were both dead, but then he heard Demetria give a gasping sob.

Henry Potter made no move in response. Severus heard himself murmur 'no' over and over like a mantra, but he understood there was nothing more he could do for Henry Potter. He knelt down beside Persephone's mother and gently touched her shoulder. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

She let out a cry of anguish. At a loss for what to do, he began to withdraw his hand, but she called out, "Severus?"

"I'm here," he said, squeezing her shoulder. "Did they hurt you?"

"_Henry_," she moaned.

He had never been given a detailed explanation of her condition other than knowing it sometimes left her weak. He gingerly placed his second hand under her shoulder, debating whether it was wise to lift her. With a sudden jerk, she turned and clung to him. He wrapped his arms around her back to support her while she shuddered and sobbed.

He did not know why he had thought they would be safe. They were pureblood, but he should have known anyone who had Muggle in their job title, anyone who spoke against Lord Voldemort, anyone related to Harry Potter could be marked for death. Staring at the lifeless body of the kindest man he had ever known, at Persephone's father, he understood the weight of his failure. Persephone would have wanted him to protect her family, and he had failed her. He had taken the mark of a murderer, deluded himself with noble intentions, but failed to remember the most basic truth that only fools made deals with the devil. It was never worth the cost.

Demetria was still sobbing unintelligibly when the Aurors arrived a minute later. She gained enough control to confirm Severus has arrived after Lord Voldemort had left. The Aurors could not pry her off of him, so he volunteered to take her to St. Mungo's.

"Do you know why Vol—why You-Know-Who would have targeted your husband?" Frank Longbottom asked Demetria, while giving Severus a suspicious look.

"I—James—" Mrs. Potter choked out, before becoming lost in fresh sobs.

"Frank, it can wait," Alice Longbottom told her husband sternly. "She needs a Healer." Frank relented with a grimace at his own poor taste, and Alice escorted them to the floo.

At the hospital, Demetria Potter was taken to a room. Once she was given a bed and a calming draught, Severus was sent into the hall while Alice stayed at her side. He sat there for hours. Alice came out to thank him for his help and forbid him or anyone beside medical staff from entering the room. Severus lingered until early the next morning, when someone finally suggested strongly he go home.

He had run across Lucius in the lobby. His blonde friend looked like he had also had a sleepless night but broke into a smile. "Severus? I'm glad you're here." Before Severus realized what he was doing, Lucius had an arm around him and was leading him back down another hall way. "Narcissa had a rough night, but they're both okay now."

Severus blinked blearily at him, not comprehending until he saw the bundle wrapped in an exhausted Narcissa's arms. "May I?" Lucius reached out for his son, and Narcissa surrendered him reluctantly. He held the small thing up for Severus to see. The baby squinted at him. "Draco, my son." Lucius smirked, his voice full of pride, though it was also trembling with relief. Few things rattled Lucius, so Severus knew he had been in genuine fear of losing both of them.

"Would you like to—?" Lucius began, but Severus shook his head.

"I didn't get sleep. I don't want to drop him," Severus said in a brittle voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a very anxious Narcissa relax slightly. To appease Lucius, Severus offered the child his finger. The infant had worked a fist free from his blanket. It's tiny fingers opened at his touch and coiled around his. Draco's eyes were as pale as his father's and the tiny face squeezed into a curious expression as it contemplated him.

Severus had spent the last few hours wondering why Lucius had not done more to save Persephone's father, but he understood now. He had not had much experience with babies before, never had opportunity to touch one, but he knew he had never wanted to protect something so badly. A minute ago, he had been ready to turn Lucius and a few dozen other names straight over to the Ministry. Now he felt more cautious. Even with her father's death, he knew Persephone would have wanted him to protect Draco too. He wanted to give him a better world.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Demetria Potter had lingered for almost another year, before some combination of grief and illness took her, but as far as Severus was concerned, Voldemort had killed her too. Severus had spared Persephone the details of her parents' death. He did not see how Persephone or Draco could benefit from the knowledge. Draco's birth had saved him too. He had spent a portion of that long night, trying to decide if it was better to turn himself over to the Ministry so his soul could be sucked out in Azkaban or take poison and save them the trouble.

Suicide was a cowardly act, but there was something appealing about not existing.

oOo

* * *

oOo

After a few more sleepless nights involving long internal debates, Severus decided the most effective way to turn on Lord Voldemort was with the Dark Lord's permission.

"My lord, I had a thought," Severus, wearing the mask of a loyal Death Eater, had said almost casually even with the abject bow of his posture. "You still want a man at Hogwarts?"

Voldemort had nodded dismissively. "You'll have another chance. I've seen to that." The Dark Lord had no other Death Eaters to place in the role. He had plenty of followers, but most were married, too young, too stupid or already serving him by holding some key position in the Ministry.

Severus was curious to know what he had planned to give him another chance but decided not to press the issue. "Even so, Dumbledore does not trust me. Moody has made it clear he suspects my involvement with the Death Eaters and has no doubt relayed those suspicions. I thought it might expedite things if I gave Dumbledore a reason to trust me."

"Offer yourself as a double agent?" Voldemort's tone carried surprise, but his eyes were narrowed suspiciously. "And what will you tell Dumbledore has inspired this change of loyalties?"

"You killed Persephone's father," Severus said flatly.

Voldemort was no fool. "You want an explanation."

"Yes."

"I can not abide disloyalty," Lord Voldemort said contemptuously.

Severus frowned. "How—?"

"Henry Potter is nothing," Voldemort said with barely contained heat. "It is not your concern what she took from me." As quickly as the heat came, ice replaced it. "And no, Severus, this has nothing to do with your friend. When you find her, your loyalty will grant her my protection. Do you still want to tell me your plan?"

"Yes, my lord," Severus said, putting his emotions away in a little black box behind his walls of Occlumency. "I would pass Dumbledore information that will prove to be useful. Perhaps we can arrange a few attacks I can warn him of in advance. Hopefully it will be enough to convince him to chance me on staff."

"There's merit to the idea," Lord Voldemort admitted. "I'll consider it." After a few days contemplation, he encouraged Severus to make contact.

Severus sent the Hogwarts headmaster a second application and request for an interview and was promptly rejected. He did not dare approach Lily again. She and James were hiding somewhere, and if he could find her, he would risk revealing her location. The Order was a secretive group. They wore no marks. James and Sirius were outspoken about their intentions to resist Voldemort, but other members were more cautious. Still, if James and Sirius were involved in something, Severus suspected Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew were as well.

Lupin was working as a shop assistant at Flourish & Blotts, and Severus was a regular customer. It was a natural opportunity to slip him a note asking him for a private meeting that evening. He was a little surprised when Lupin showed up at the Muggle bar he had suggested. Growing up on a predominately Muggle street, Severus knew how to dress, if not fashionably, well enough to blend in, and apparently so did Remus. Severus had traded his black robes for black trousers, a faded t-shirt, and black jacket. Remus looked like he had been born in blue jeans and a thin sweater.

"What do you want, Snape?" Remus asked as Severus joined him at the table. "I'm only here because Lily told me what you did for her."

Severus got straight to business. "I need an interview with Dumbledore."

"You'd make an awful teacher," Remus quipped. "Think of the children."

Severus scowled at him. "Not that kind of interview. Lily suggested something, and I want to explore it."

"I can't speak for Dumbledore, but I'll see what I can do," Remus said thoughtfully. He gave Severus one of his sickly smiles. "I'd offer to buy you a drink, but the boss told me I'm fired if I miss one more night of work."

"I don't want to stay that long," Severus said, standing back up. "I'll come by the shop before the full moon for your answer." Lupin's brow furrowed, but he nodded.

As Severus left, he thought he felt the eyes of a helmeted biker on him but tried to shrug it off as paranoia. How many wizards drove around on Muggle motorcycles?

Lupin delivered. He passed a note back to Severus inside a book with a time and location. Severus was so relieved he almost ran head first into Sirius Black while leaving the shop. "What's your hurry, Snivellus?" Sirius bit at him.

"Get splinched, Black," Severus retorted and continued towards the door.

"Funny how quick you showed up at the Potters," Sirius said in a low voice.

Severus pretended he could not hear him and kept walking.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Severus sat shivering on an ancient pile of stone in the remote ruins where Dumbledore had asked to meet him. He had a fair respect for learning history but did not understand the Muggles' fascination with preserving decrepit foundations that no longer resembled the useful buildings they had once supported. It was midnight, the moon not quite full. A mist hugged the ground, and the broken piles of stone were starting to take on metaphoric significance for his life.

He had come early, but the minutes were dragging by like hours. A voice floated out from the darkness. "Place your wand on the ground and step away from it holding your hands out."

Severus recognized the voice and did as instructed. Dumbledore melted out of the darkness as he dropped the Disillusionment that had been hiding him. Gone was the cheery, deceptively doddering man from his school days. The merry twinkle Severus remembered had been replaced by hard suspicion.

"So Lily convinced you to turn on your master did she?"

"Yes," Severus said, though he realized that was gross over simplification.

"Then why did you not come to me more openly?"

Severus refused to show fear, even though most wizards would have quavered under the unwavering stare and wand of Albus Dumbledore. "I did send you an application," he pointed out and plunged forward with his confession. He hoped to win Dumbledore over with pure honesty. "Lord Voldemort wanted me to take a teaching position at Hogwarts, so I could spy on you. I'm guessing you already suspected that, and I told him as much. I convinced him to let me approach you, to offer my services as a spy."

Dumbledore's expression grew more severe. "Severus, your either the sloppiest double agent in history or ridiculously clever. Lord Voldemort and I are both accomplished Legilimens. How do expect to get away with lying to either one of us?"

"I've been practicing Occlumency for years," Severus tried to make a logical argument for his ability. "I don't betray every emotion like some people. More importantly I know when to keep my mouth shut."

"That gives me very little grounds to trust you," Dumbledore said simply.

He felt a tremble of worry but clung to his reasoning tone of voice. "I've helped Lily. Twice now."

"Yes, and she's eager to give you a chance," Dumbledore said. He sounded tired. "But you've just told me that Lord Voldemort wants you to win me over, so it's hard to know that wasn't a deliberate tactic. And there's no one else he could have heard the prophecy from..."

"Don't tell me anything useful then!" Severus argued. "Give me a trial period, let me show you—"

But Dumbledore was already shaking his head. "The simple fact is, even if you're telling the truth, it's too dangerous. For me, for the Order, probably for you as well. I will never knowingly let a Death Eater into Hogwarts. Goodnight, Severus." Dumbledore flicked his wand, which sent Severus's sprawling several feet away, and turned as though he could no longer stand the sight of him.

Severus saw his last chance and carefully constructed plan crumbling. He had been trusting for Dumbledore to set things right. A flood gate had been open, releasing all the pain and despair that had been building inside his chest. "_Listen to me!_" he cried hoarsely as hot tears dropped down his cheeks. He tried to collect himself, to say _something_ to make Dumbledore see he was telling the truth, but he could not. A wave of hopelessness knocked him to his knees as more tears fell on the dirt and rocks below. "I can't — I don't —" For every argument he could form, his brain just as quickly supplied the counter argument to it. "Please...help me...I didn't want — I couldn't — please..."

There was a heavy sigh and the rustle of fabric as Dumbledore settled his weight on a pile of stones. "All right, Severus, I'm listening."

Severus felt a shudder of relief run through him. Even though embarrassment was gradually replacing the despair, it took him another minute or two to breath normally and regain the power of speech. The water rebelliously leaked from his eyes for several more. His hands were dirty from holding himself off the ground, and he did his best to brush them off against each other. He did not try to stand until he finished telling his story, and Dumbledore listened. "...I thought...I thought he could help me find her, but it was all pointless. She'd hate me now. I hate me. I can't...I need to atone. I need to make my penance, and I don't know how else to do it."

Dumbledore crossed his arms on his knees and looked down his long crooked nose at him. "It is a clever plan, Severus, but I was not exaggerating when I said it was dangerous. You will probably die. You may die with no one knowing you were trying to make right. And you may need to do more undesirable things to maintain your cover without crossing certain lines. This is not an easy path."

"My life is meaningless now anyway," Severus said, his eyes finally drying. "But do you think it can make a difference...?"

Dumbledore allowed him a tight smile. "Time will tell."

oOo

* * *

oOo

The story time told however was convoluted and murky. James and Lily had still died, as had many others. Alice and Frank had lost their minds. Guilty men had walked free. Justice was a nice idea but a fragile reality. He had managed to keep Harry alive so far, but the boy had become a young man and was building himself an army. If he ever had been, he was no longer necessary. The one thing that had given him something unique to offer was gone. The best he could hope for was to march on like a good little foot soldier, but he was tired. He had some faith that good would win out in the end. Not due to some Prophecy, he doubted it then and doubted it now, but organization, determination, numbers, public support. Potter was doing everything right. It might take years, but he suspected Harry would win eventually through sheer stubbornness and a preponderance of friends.

The students were out today, enjoying their last Hogsmeade weekend before the exams started. He was sitting in his office staring at the stack of papers he had just finished grading. The clock on the mantle had gotten stuck at three, and he was debating whether it was worth the energy to cross the room and fix it, when the door to his office burst open.

Persephone stood panting in the middle of the room, her hair in greater disarray than usual, and clutching a vial of blue liquid in her hand. "Oh mon, Severus, I'm sorry! I messed it up! I mean I think we did the potion right, but it wasn't supposed to change until after term as over. We were supposed to have time to talk about it, but it changed already, and I—" She had been speaking very quickly and was now floundering for more words.

Severus stood and walked slowly around his desk. "Is that what I think it is?" he asked, reaching out to take the vial from her.

She surrendered it and twisted her hands together. "It's a Younging Potion. It can make you younger, but it changed too quick. It was supposed to sit for three months—"

"Three months is a maximum," Severus corrected her automatically. "But it takes at least that long to brew." He had read about it a long time ago. Mainly he remembered that it was devilishly tricky and had some strange side effect that had severely dampened its popularity. "You made this?"

"Draco and Hermione helped," she admitted looking guilty. "Severus, I don't care if you look older than I do. I really don't. I don't expect you to drink it. But I can't not be with you. I can't! I wanted you to know that. And I thought...I thought if you had options..."

Three months. This explained all those furtive looks and study sessions. Persephone had not forgotten him at all but had talked Draco and Ms. Granger into helping her. The involvement of those two meant the potion was no doubt every bit as perfect as it looked.

"I'll drink it," he said abruptly.

"Severus, wait, please. Look at me."

He tore his eyes away from the vial and looked down at her face. It was a mix of hope and anxiety that told him despite everything she still loved him. She was so close, not quite pressing against him, but the space was minimal, her hand on his arm. "If you drink it, you can be any age again, but everything about you will go back to that age. You won't remember anything that happened after that point. I don't know that it's worth it. I can take an Aging Potion. I don't mind being my proper age. Or we can meet in the middle. But I think we should talk about it. Take time to think it over."

Curious side effect indeed. He remembered something else from his reading. "The potion is only usable for twenty-fours after it changes color."

"I only wanted to show you that we could do it, and if we did it once, we can do it again."

"That'll take another three months at least. I'm sure your friends have summer plans."

"If they can do it, you can too. I can wait."

"You don't think we've done enough waiting?"

She faltered for a moment, then grabbed his arm in alarm. He suspected she would grab the vial back if he let her, but he was much taller and held it out of reach. "Severus, give it back. I changed my mind. It's a terrible idea. I don't want you to change. I don't want you to forget anything. I like you exactly the way you are." She pulled vainly on his arm. He was stronger than her too and held it rigid. "Please, Severus, please don't. I love you. You don't have to change for me. That's not why I—I just want you to be happy." He could see her tears forming, feel her clasping at his arm. But she seemed very far away. She had resorted to jumping, but he merely the held the vial higher. His poor little darling was very short. "Give it back!" She whimpered with frustration. "We can be happy without it! Why can't you believe me? I like you the way you are!"

"But I don't," Severus said softly. She stopped jumping and gave him a sad look. "It's been a long time since I have."

"So be better," she reasoned softly. "I know it was hard for you. You've been alone a long time. But I'm here now. I'm not leaving again." She released his arm and pressed herself against his chest.

Severus stroked her hair with his free hand. "I know. But there's so much I want to forget." He pulled the cork out and put the vial to his lips. It tasted sweet and ran down his throat leaving a faint tingle behind. The tingle and coolness seemed to spread through him and everything seemed clearer. Persephone gave a broken gasp and released him.

"It-t's not too late if you just-just focus on now," she pleaded, but he thought he caught a tone of wonder and a hint of resignation.

Severus shook his head. "Remind me how it works?"

"You focus on the moment you want to return to and..." Her brow was creased with worry.

"There's a catalyst needed isn't there?" he said, more of his reading swimming up in his oddly clear mind. "Something physical to focus the body while you focus the mind."

"Yes," she admitted. "Like a slap or a pinch or something..."

He smirked. "Surely you can do better than that."

"Severus, are you sure this is what you want? Do you know when you want to go back to? If you're not focused..."

"I know the exact moment," he said. "The last time I was truly and completely happy."

Her brow still furrowed, she beckoned him closer. Maybe the word happy had convinced her, or perhaps, she just accepted that he was stubborn enough to finish this without her. "I love you," she said, and they kissed.

An outside observer would have seen a bright blue light and brief, smooth transformation as Professor Snape lost a few inches, a few pounds, and all his wrinkles, but this remarkable sight was lost upon the closed eyes of the only two people in the room.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Severus Snape was surprised to feel the lips pressed against his own, but it was a nice sort of surprise. He had no memory of closing his eyes but figured that must be a natural reaction brought on by the kissing and made no effort to fight it. He was also feeling an odd sense of vertigo as though the world had shifted, but also dismissed this as some natural reaction to being kissed like this. Lips parted, and he took a breath and blinked. "I guess you really wanted to go to the dance."

"What?" Persephone said. She moved her hands to cup his jaw with an incredulous look on her face. She seemed different than she was a few seconds ago, older, though that may have been the proximity and the increased blood flow.

"You just said you'd go to the dance with me," Severus said, trying to remember how she had closed the three or four feet between them so quickly. Maybe first kisses could result in partial memory loss.

Persephone stared at him with a shocked expression, which after a second broke into a broad smile, and then she was kissing him again. Severus continued to not be displeased by this and tried to participate. He was not sure where to put his hands and finally settled for her shoulders.

After what he believed to be a full minute, she stepped back and clasped her hands over her mouth. Severus smiled, almost as eager to talk about what happened as to repeat it. He had not expected...he blinked as his brain began to register his surroundings. This was most certainly not the Slytherin common room. "Persephone?" he asked slowly, still holding her shoulders. "Where are we?"

She squeaked under her hands in response. "We're in your office."

"My office?" Severus straightened, the novelty of the kiss began to wear off as the mysterious change of scenery began to dominate his mind. It reminded him of Slughorn's office, but the decor was all wrong. The clock on the mantle said three. Was that right? He frowned thoughtfully.

"You're a professor, now," she said, as his hands dropped off her shoulders. "I mean you were a few minutes ago. You...you drank a Younging Potion."

Severus frowned. "Why would I do an idiotic thing like that?"

Persephone started wringing her hands and shrugged. "So we could be together?"

Severus felt a growing sense of unease. "How old was I?"

"Thirty-eight," Persephone said, still giving him that worried look.

He looked at her again. She did look a little different, but no where near thirty-eight. "Did you take a Younging Potion too?"

"No," she said, looking curious, then seemed to understand the reason for his question. "Oh, I was trapped in a painting for twenty years, so I didn't age as much."

"Twenty years?"

"Yeah."

Right, figures...he was dreaming. The kiss should have given that much away.

"Why the hell would anyone want to be seventeen again? Why not twenty? Or at least eighteen, so I could have my N.E.W.T.s done..." A horrible thought occurred to him. "Did I fail my N.E.W.T.s?" He did not like failing any more in his dreams than he did in the real world.

"Oh, no, I think you got perfect marks." She reached up again and straightened his collar. He had had worse dreams. This one felt so real. "I was kidnapped later that same day, so I guess you didn't want to remember that. And the war...I'm sure that was unpleasant."

"What war?" There were hints of a nightmare in this dream. He hoped he was not going to have to live through that scenario. Persephone did have an annoying habit of predicting things.

"It's...that's a really long story," Persephone said, her brow knitted together. "I think we should save it for later."

Severus rubbed the back of his neck. If this was a dream, he might as well focus on the more immediate and less gloomy aspects of it. "What do I teach?"

"You're the Potions Masters."

"Potions?" Severus said, rolling the idea around in his head. He liked Potions. "I guess that means Slughorn's gone."

Persephone nodded. Severus looked down and noticed that he was wearing different robes. Black and scholarly, if a bit baggy on him. "I love you, Severus," she said abruptly.

He felt his face redden. "Oh, um..." He tried to think of something appropriate to say, but everything was happening out of sequence. He had sort of been hoping to work up to that at the dance.

Her searching look quickly morphed into chagrin. "I'm sorry. This must be very confusing for you."

"Oh, no," he said quickly. "I mean, yes, but it's er—"

"I should probably get help," said Persephone. "You stay here, and I'll be right back. Just...stay here." She started to leave, ran back to hug him, then ran out again.

While she was gone, he walked around the room, wondering if this was some strange elaborate joke being played on him, but he could not imagine someone going through that much trouble to have a go at him. He examined the jars in the office, reading the neat little labels in what looked like his handwriting. There were no photographs. Slughorn had been fond of photographs. Very few travel trinkets, unless you counted the ingredient bottles, which seemed like a far more sensible thing to collect than decorative chachkas. Slughorn's office had been cluttered with colorful knickknacks, many with moving parts, and all with stories attached to them, so the room itself seemed alive. These shelves, on the other hand, were lined with books and dead things. It was neat, sparse, and organized.

Severus leaned over the desk to examine its tidy piles. A quill, an ink bottle, a lamp, and two piles of parchment. He was afraid to touch anything but bent close to read the top essay, _The Components of an Enlarging Elixir. _It was boring but readable. There were marks in red that were very similar to his handwriting. He heard the door open and looked up to see Persephone walk back in, closely followed by two taller students. The boy reminded him of Lucius, tall, pale, blonde with sharp features. The girl had long, bushy brown hair and dark eyes. They were both attractive, out of uniform, and wore expressions of shock and concern, but the boy's eyes were narrowed while the girl's were wide.

"Professor Snape?" the blonde said uncertainly.

"Who are they?" Severus asked Persephone. He had thought she would bring teachers.

Persephone gestured to the girl first. "Severus, this is Hermione Granger."

"Hello," the girl, Hermione, squeaked.

"And this is Draco." Persephone presented the boy with a significant pause. "He's Lucius's son. They're prefects."

"His _son_?" Severus repeated. The handsome boy nodded.

"Persephone, what have you done?" the other prefect, Hermione...unusual name, hissed.

"He took it out of my hand," Persephone whined. "I couldn't stop him."

_Did I? _wondered Severus, wishing he could remember.

"You must've brought it down here in the first place though," Draco pointed out.

"I told you. I panicked." Persephone wrung her hands again. "What are we going to do?"

"We should take him to Professor Dumbledore," said Hermione.

Draco gave her a startled look. "Dumbledore?" They were talking as though Severus was not in the room, and it was beginning to annoy him.

"We're not going to be able to hide this." The girl in the striped jumper waved her arm at him. She seemed to be working herself into a panic. "Everyone will notice that Professor Snape isn't quite right."

"Is it true then?" he asked to get their attention. "I'm really a Professor?"

"Well, you were-are," staggered Hermione. "I don't know if you will be anymore. I don't know what we're going to do about our review for the N.E.W.T.s."

"We'll never get him through the halls without drawing a crowd," said Draco. "Should we bring the Headmaster down here?"

"Here. Put this over him." The Hermione girl pulled an invisibility cloak out of her shoulder bag and looked at him awkwardly. In a gentler voice she added, "I mean, if you're ready."

"Yes," said Severus, stepping around the desk to accept the cloak. This was turning into a fun dream after all. "I want to see the Headmaster."

"That looks like James' cloak," Persephone interjected.

"It is," Hermione told her. "He left it to Harry."

Severus knew Harry was supposed to be James' son. Persephone had described some dream about him not long ago. But the other issue drew his attention more strongly. "James has an invisibility cloak?" It explained a lot and annoyed him to think Persephone would keep such a secret.

"Had," Persephone amended softly. "He's dead."

"Dead?" Severus repeated. This was a morbid fantasy. "How? Did he die in the war?"

"We'll give you the history lesson later," Draco said bruskly. "Let's go see Dumbledore now."

Severus started to wrap himself in the cloak but paused at the sight of their grim faces. They did not expect Dumbledore to be happy about this. "Am I in trouble?"

"No, I don't think so," Persephone assured him. "But I might be."

"Why?"

Lucius's son jerked the cloak to close around him and pulled him to the door. "Keep quiet and keep up." The two prefects lead them through a convoluted but less populated series of passage ways. Persephone kept her arm on his as they walked, which Severus thought might give them away, but none of the students they passed said anything. The bushy haired prefect gave the password when they arrived at the entrance to the headmaster's office.

Once they were safely out of the main corridor, Draco pulled the cloak off him just as roughly as he had put it on, and handed it back to the girl who quickly folded it back into her bag. She knocked on the door, and Dumbledore bade them to enter.

"What is it, Ms. Granger?"

"It's um-it's Professor Snape, sir."

"Severus!" Unlike Persephone, Dumbledore actually looked twenty years older. It was a little unsettling. The shock and concern warring on his face was even more intense than Persephone's had been. "What happened?"

"I don't know, Headmaster," said Severus. "One minute I was in the common room and next thing I know I'm in an office and…" He was not sure how to explain this next part. "Persephone told me twenty years had passed."

The lines on Dumbledore's face deepened as he turned to Persephone. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"I-I made a Younging Potion," she stuttered. "It wasn't supposed to mature until after term. I was going to talk to Severus about it and give him time to think it over. But it changed color early, and I panicked. I didn't mean for it. I was just going to talk to him about it, but he took it out of my hand and wouldn't give it back."

"And he took this potion with full knowledge of what he was doing?" Dumbledore's voice was a little too calm.

"He would have had to, sir," Hermione interjected. "The potion requires the drinker to focus on a particular point in time."

"Ms. Granger, this is a very serious matter. Were you in anyway involved in the brewing of this potion?"

"No, sir," Persephone said firmly. "It was just me."

"Are you sure about that, Ms. Potter?" Severus found his eyes wandering around the office while the others talked. It was familiar but different somehow, little details. "A Younging Potion is an extremely complicated bit of brewing if my memory serves."

"It is," Severus said. He had an almost compulsive need to answer academic questions. "Takes three months simply to brew it. But the three month wait for maturity is maximum, Persephone, not a fixed time period."

Dumbledore's lips twitched, and he smiled sadly. "Read Most Potente Potions cover to cover, I see."

"Yes, sir," said Severus, impressed and pleased the headmaster knew his reading habits.

"I remember," said Dumbledore said. "I've learned to keep my eye on that particular book. Mr. Malfoy, I found it particularly curious when you checked it out with permission from our Astronomy Mistress back in January. I had words with her about it, I assure you. However as you had started keeping counsel with Ms. Granger, I thought it best to leave you to her better influences, perhaps that was unwise."

"I asked Draco and Hermione to help me, Headmaster!" Persephone interrupted. "He got the book for me, but when he saw the full affects of the Potion, he advised me against it."

"That's true, Headmaster," Hermione murmured.

"Is it true, Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore asked.

"It's true, sir." Unlike the girls, Lucius's son look unabashed. "I told her it was a bad idea. That it would be like killing him."

Severus sensed trouble. "I'm not dead. I feel fine. Just a little...out of place."

"Quiet, Severus," Dumbledore said sharply. "You have an extremely good memory, Ms. Potter, to have only seen the book once and remember all the steps for that Potion correctly."

"I borrowed the book from Draco's bag and copied everything down before he turned it back in," Persephone said quickly.

"Maybe I helped her, Headmaster," Severus suggested. "If I'm the Potions Master, I'd have access to all the ingredients. I mean I wouldn't remember."

"No," Persephone said gently, her eyes shining as she looked at the teenage Snape. She touched his shoulder gently. "You didn't do anything except drink it. I take all the blame, Headmaster."

The dream got weirder. Persephone was expelled but not until the end of term. It seemed the other two might share her fate, but they distracted the headmaster with a story about Draco being attacked by a Death Eater, followed by the story of the gory murder of Evra Tomes, and the news that a whole mass of Death Eaters was living in a series of secret underground caves under Malfoy Manor. Severus did not want to see Evra Tomes murdered, he was rather fond of her, but he was used to more visuals and less talking in his dreams. Persephone listened with a gape mouthed expression. Severus was filled with the odd desire to start kissing her again, but that seemed highly inappropriate.

"...he used that spell to cut his hand and left blood on the stone, then he healed his hand and exposed his Dark Mark. It turned red, and the blood soak into the stone. And then the wall opened. That's how we got in. We thought that maybe Snape…"

"I do believe Severus Snape no longer bears the Dark Mark," said Dumbledore. "Roll up your left sleeve, Severus."

He did as Dumbledore asked, relieved to find nothing there, but chilled by the implication. Dumbledore thought he had been a Death Eater, a dark magic user.

"It might have been convenient to have ready access to the Death Eater's lair, but walking into the vipers' pit is often not the wisest move."

"It's my home," Draco said weakly.

Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder. "Home is where you are loved, Mr. Malfoy."

_He's obviously never been to my house, _Severus thought bitterly. How on earth could Dumbledore ever think he would be a Death Eater? He had studied dark magic so he could fight it, not use it. Yeah, Lucius had...Regulus might...and Avery probably...but not him. Persephone would hate it, and his father would _kill _him, so clearly...

He realized he had gotten lost in his thoughts and missed part of the conversation.

"...as such, I think it's best you three go, so I can decide what to do about young Severus."

Persephone gave him a look that said she did not want to leave him, but Draco took her arm and lead her to the door. She stopped there and looked over her shoulder. "Professor Dumbledore. Take care, sir. You need to get some rest, or you'll be too tired when the time comes." Severus knew what that voice meant but doubted the other did. The two prefects darted out of the room, pulling her with them, and shutting the door after.

Severus could hear their faint voices fading down the stairs.

"_Are you nuts?_"

"_Doesn't he look tired to you?_"

"_Well, he's getting on. But I don't think that was the right time to.._."

Severus turned around to face a very grave, very troubled, very old looking Dumbledore. "Why, Severus? Why would you...?" the headmaster trailed off, and Severus realized he was not talking to him, but to someone who could not answer.

He felt a chill creep down his spine, and at the same time, a strange sense of elation. "I'm not dreaming, am I?"

Dumbledore looked at him properly and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Headmaster," Severus said. "I didn't mean to cause you trouble. I mean I don't think I would have." He swallowed. Dumbledore was one of the few people whose respect he deeply craved. He did not like the idea of disappointing him.

Dumbledore walked to his desk and sunk down in the high-backed chair without a word. He dropped his face into his hands in such a weary posture, Severus was afraid to speak to him. Fawkes flapped off his perch and landed on the headmaster's shoulder. The bird began to sing softly, and Severus sunk down into one of the chairs facing the desk as he had many times before.

He tried to sort out the mess of information flung at him, but none of it made sense. Kidnapping and Death Eaters and war and...and Persephone. And James dead...that shouldn't make him feel so happy and relieved. Apparently he had lived long enough to have a son. Harry Potter, son of James...Persephone's strange dream. Had he dismissed it too quickly?

He had told her it was impossible, because Harry was a young man and he had looked the same...but now...thanks to the Younging Potion, he was the same. He ought to warn Harry about the snake-faced man. He had promised Persephone...Persephone had kissed him, and he had drunk twenty years of his life away for her. That was insane. It sounded like the plot to one of those ridiculous novels she and Narcissa liked to read. He made fun of those things, and now he seemed to be living in one.

He was annoyed with this older self he could not remember for making Dumbledore look so miserable. Obviously school was still in session. You would think he could at least wait for summer when classes were out. But then it seemed obvious to him that Persephone's friends had helped her make the potion. She had lied to cover for them. His decision had been hasty.

"What now, Professor?" he asked to break the silence.

Fawkes had stopped singing. "I don't know," Dumbledore said, looking up at him. There was a tear glistening on each cheek, and it made Severus very uncomfortable. "I suppose we ought to have Poppy look you over. Make sure there are no other side effects."

Severus nodded his assent, unsure who Poppy was, but not wanting to give Dumbledore anymore grief. He cast about for something to say. "I finally finished reading that book you lent me, _Magica Amoris..._" He remembered this might be twenty year old news. "Did I remember to give it back?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Unfortunately, you were in no mood to discuss it."

"Oh..." Severus said, wondering if that had something to do with Persephone's kidnapping. If she had kissed him like that and then gone missing... "Well, if you wanted to sometime..." he began awkwardly.

"Unfortunately, now I'm not in the mood," Dumbledore said grimly. There was a hint of restrained anger in his eyes and voice.

Severus swallowed.

"Is this my fault, Severus?" Dumbledore asked him.

Though again, Severus believed he was asking someone who was gone. He tried to answer. "It's obviously mine, sir," he said, slumping with guilt.

Dumbledore gave him a curious look and sighed. "No, boy, it isn't your fault. But it is your problem. And mine. Tell me. Do you love her?"

Severus did not need to ask who he meant. While he had spent the last few years thoroughly certain that he did, at the moment, he was not entirely sure.


	10. The Memoirs of Severus Snape

**Severus Snape and the Last Year**

By Carla Lute

**Notes: **If you want to go with the zippered, semi-chronological reading of the Last Year levels, you would read Level 3.6 right after Level 1.8: The Change in Professor Snape (aka Chapter 19).

Special Thanks to Imbeni for beta testing.

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on the Harry Potter novels written by J.K. Rowling. All characters created by J.K. Rowling are owned by J.K. Rowling. The few characters created by me (i.e. Persephone, Hotchet, Kagome…) belong to me, but are available for use in other fics as long as I get credited as their creator. None of us are making any money off this and no infringement is intended.

* * *

oOo

**Level 3.10: The Memoirs of Severus Snape**

Dumbledore was waiting for an answer, so he nodded. He did love Persephone. She was his best friend after all. But he had just finished reading _Magica Amoris _with this grand idea of love as a very powerful, rather mysterious force, and he had developed a timid reverence for it. Love was sacrificial and complex in its simplicity, and it terrified him a little. Besides he had just been dropped twenty-one years into the future and thought he ought to figure what was going on before he declared anything.

The strangest thing was how he did not feel strange at all. He supposed he ought to be scared or worried or something along that line, but instead he felt oddly peaceful and extremely curious. Severus had so many questions he was not sure where to start.

Dumbledore has his own questions. "How are old are you now, Severus?"

"Seventeen," he answered and added to be thorough, "Last date I remember was May twenty-second...of seventy-seven." Dumbledore seemed to recognize the significance of the date. "When am I now?"

"Saturday, May ninth, nineteen hundred ninety-eight."

Almost exactly twenty-one years gone. Severus frowned while he did the math. Persephone had turned sixteen only a couple of weeks ago, but according to Dumbledore she would be having another birthday tomorrow.

"How old is Persephone?"

Dumbledore sighed again. "Sixteen. Normally, I would say she'd be considered seventeen tomorrow, but I think we've left normal far behind. I believed she escaped her painting in late August, so she may not truly be of age until the end of the summer."

They were closer to the same age now. Severus remembered making a wish once while blowing out birthday candles that they could have classes together. In retrospect that wish may have been unwise. "Do I still need to take my N.E.W.T.s, or do my scores from the first time still count?"

"I will need to consult the Wizarding Examinations Authority to answer that question," said Dumbledore, still looking grave. "I can tell you that the Ministry of Magic does not consider loss of memory to excuse anyone from crimes they have committed. That precedent was established so the guilty would not try to escape their punishment through Younging Potions or Memory Charms."

"I'm still fired then," Severus said before he could stop himself.

To his relief, Dumbledore's lip twitched. "Yes, Severus, you are most definitely fired." Dumbledore pushed himself off his chair to his feet, and Fawkes flew back to his perch. "Let's go see Poppy."

Poppy turned out to be Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse. They traveled to her office through the school's internal floo system. She showed the twenty-one year lapse even more than Dumbledore. Her dark blonde hair had turned silver, and her kind face was lined with stern wrinkles. "A Younging Potion?" she repeated. "There's nothing I can do about that, Albus. No antidote."

"I understand, Poppy, but I would like you to check him over for other side effects and keep him here overnight for observation." Severus did think Dumbledore sounded tired, but unlike Persephone he had the tact not to say anything. "I trust to your discretion. I need to consult the Ministry and inform the staff, before letting the students know."

"Of course, Headmaster. Goodnight, sir." When Dumbledore had gone, Madam Pomfrey threw a blanket over Severus's head and marched him to a bed that she hid from view with curtains. She handed him a folded pair of white pajamas with blue stripes. "Put these on." Severus thought he caught her lip twitch as she stepped out to give him privacy.

He changed and, not having anything else to do, sat down on the bed. Madam Pomfrey returned and asked him if he had a long list of possible complaints, while he repeated, "No". When she finished, she waved her wand over him and checked his pulse. "Physically you're fine. Do you have any questions?"

Too many to count. "Are my parents still alive?" he asked.

Madam Pomfrey hesitated. "I believe so, but I've gotten the impression you're not on speaking terms with them. You usual spend Christmas holidays at Hogwarts."

He did not find that too surprising. "How long have I been teaching?"

"Sixteen years," Pomfrey answered after another pause to count. "Almost seventeen. I remember you started the same year that Harry Potter..." She trailed off, and Severus looked at her curiously. "I think that's too long of a story for tonight."

The door to the hospital wing opened, and Madam Pomfrey left him to deal with another patient. Severus had nothing to do but lie in bed and think. He wondered if Sirius Black was dead too. Regardless, the Marauders would not be around to bother him anymore. They would have all left school twenty years ago. No more Slughorn. No more Avery. No parents. He had escaped them all. Left them twenty years behind, and Persephone had kissed him. He felt a slow smile creep over his face as he settled onto his pillow. The future was not so bad after all.

oOo

* * *

oOo

In the morning, he spent a few minutes wondering if his transportation to the future had all been a fantastic dream, but when Madam Pomfrey bustled in with a breakfast tray, her hair was still silver. He sighed with relief and ate quickly. He wanted to explore but knew Dumbledore would want him to stay put.

Luckily, Madam Pomfrey decided to allow Persephone in to see him. "The Fat Friar told me where you were," she explained as she sat down next to his bed.

Severus pulled his covers up, more from nerves than any true need for modesty. "You're the only girl I know who chats regularly with ghosts," he said. He left his hand on the covers in easy reach for her, and she placed her own around it.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked, and he could see from her face he was not the only one feeling nervous.

"Why would I be mad at you?"

"I know the older you chose to drink the potion," she said softly. "But no one asked you if you wanted this."

He shrugged. "Nothing anyone can do about it now."

She looked even more anxious and tightened her grip on his hand. He returned the pressure, and her face relaxed a little. She stared down at their hands. "You have such elegant fingers," she said with a faint smile. "Mine are so short."

"You're short," he said. "They're proportionate." He closed his eyes and laid back on his pillow, enjoying the peaceful moment and the feel of her hand in his. She usually held his sleeve, so this must be some mark of progress. He opened his eyes to find her brow furrowed with worry. "There's nothing wrong with me, you know," he said, sitting back up. "I'm just here as a precaution. I don't think Dumbledore wanted anyone to see me. I guess I'm an embarrassment."

Persephone lifted his hand to her mouth, kissed it, and pressed her cheek to his fingers. The unusual behavior left him discomfited. "I'm fine," he repeated. "It's not like I'm dying."

"I'm sorry," she said, lowering his hand. "I just feel guilty."

"Well, don't," he said irritably. He wanted to kiss her again or scoot over and let her lay beside him on the bed, but they were in the hospital wing. Pomfrey or Dumbledore could walk back in any minute. He settled for touching her hair briefly with his free hand. "Why don't you tell me what I missed? How did James die?"

She tried to explain to him about Lord Voldemort and curse scars. He was disappointed to hear that Lily had died too, but having _Magica Amoris_ fresh on his mind, he was able to explain some of the blood magic to her.

"Are the family ties really that important?" she asked.

"Yes and no," he answered. "Family bonds usually run deep, all the way to the prenatal. And there are certain hereditary things passed down through generations. But love creates a stronger bond than blood. When you have both it—"

"Persephone?" Madam Pomfrey interrupted. "Professor Dumbledore asked me to get Severus ready."

"Right," Persephone said, hopping up. She placed a quick kiss on his forehead and hurried away. Madam Pomfrey patted Persephone's head affectionately as she passed, and this time Severus caught the matron's amused smile.

She placed a fresh set of black robes on the end of his bed and left him to dress. The robes were practically identical to the ones he had found himself in the day before, black, voluminous sleeves, slightly too large for him. Madam Pomfrey had provided him with a mirror and a washbasin. There was a comb and toothbrush he presumed were his.

If anything could be said for his hair, it did not tangle easily. He took a few quick swipes with the comb, which resulted in little change and tossed it back down. He was not the most dedicated brusher but decided this was not a good morning to skip. He applied a dab of paste and caught sight of his crooked teeth in the mirror.

Today they gave him pause. He knew healers could fix teeth, but it had never occurred to him to have his own fixed. He had accepted the fact he was unattractive and made no effort to fight it. The best he hoped for was to be invisible or immaterial like a shadow. It was how he thought of himself. Lucius's shadow. Persephone's shadow. They both knew how to light a room with their smiles. Persephone, Lucius, and the two prefects from yesterday all had perfect teeth. Of course Draco did. He was Lucius's son and probably Narcissa's. She had perfect teeth too. It had never really occurred to him before that this perfection might not be the gift of nature.

Persephone had told him once about the twenty step routine Narcissa went through each morning. It had struck him as a ridiculous amount of effort, and he had assumed it was largely unnecessary. Narcissa would have to go to great lengths not to be beautiful, but maybe he had erred to the other extreme, making no effort at all.

Madam Pomfrey peeked in to check on him. "Everything all right?"

Severus placed the toothbrush back on the table and opened his mouth to show her his teeth. "Can you fix these?" he asked.

Madam Pomfrey looked at him with sympathy. "Of course," she said, sitting down beside him and pulling out her wand. He held his mouth open for her while she nudged his teeth into their proper place. It was very uncomfortable. His mouth grew dry from being open so long. Spurts of pain and a tugging sensation riddled his gums while she worked. After several long minutes, she put her wand down, went to her office, and returned with a bottle of amethyst liquid. She poured it into a cup. "Swish this around but don't swallow." The amethyst liquid stung at first as it washed over his raw gums, but then it became soothing. "Spit," she instructed, sticking the cup under his mouth. He did as told. "See what you think," she said, as she tightened the cap back on the bottle.

Not sure what to expect he pulled back his lips and looked in the mirror. Pomfrey had whitened his teeth as well as straightened them. He hated to admit how much better it looked. He had trained his lips to close when he smiled, so he tried to practice letting a little tooth show.

Madam Pomfrey returned from putting the bottle away and caught him at it. Severus let his face go self-consciously slack, but she smiled with satisfaction over her own work. "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that."

Severus tried to smile for her benefit, but the sound of the door opening distracted him.

"Is Severus ready?" the headmaster asked in a heavy voice.

He jumped to his feet, and Pomfrey slung a traveling cloak around his shoulders. "He's all yours, Albus." They gave him a wide bandage to wrap around the lower portion of his face and pulled the hood low to cover the rest. Dumbledore steered him down the hall with an arm around his shoulders towards the teachers lounge.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Severus sat still and silent at the long conference table, listening and trying to watch the teachers settle in through the gaps in the fabric.

"What's this about, Albus?"

"...I think next year, I'll see how my sixth years handle it..."

"I'd like ter set another lesson under the lake, but I need a fresh batch of gillyweed..."

He knew some of the voices. McGonagall, Flitwick, Hagrid, Nochian, Sprout...she had started during his fourth year and won Lucius over by agreeing not to let him into her Advanced Herbology class.

Others he did not recognize. "Severus, is that you under there?" a witch with dark hair, wearing heavy makeup asked him. He was not sure if he should answer and looked to Dumbledore for instructions, but the headmaster was watching the door.

"I'm afraid Professor Snape may have met with some accident," another witch said in an airy voice. "I was reading the cards at breakfast and..."

"Overheard the Grey Lady tell me he was in the hospital wing," an angular witch interrupted irritably.

The airy witch sniffed in an offended sort of way. "You have your sources, Professor Vector, and I have mine."

Bizarrely, Severus heard the sound of hooves enter the room. "I passed Professor Kotter in the hall. He will be here shortly." It was a male voice but could not get a good look at the speaker.

"Good morning," Professor Binns said as he floated into the room through the fireplace and settled into a comfortable looking armchair removed from the conference table, perhaps as a courtesy to the living or simply some benefit of being dead.

"Is Professor Snape all right?" Professor Sprout asked. His silence and hooded head, coupled with Dumbledore's serious expression had begun to draw their attention.

"We'll be discussing that matter shortly, but I prefer to wait for Professor Kotter," said Dumbledore. Something in his tone killed the other subjects of conversation. The teachers settled into an uneasy silence. A minute later a bearded wizard skidded into the room. "Close the door, please, Daniel."

Professor Kotter did as asked and took the last empty seat. "Sorry to keep you waiting," he said. "Where's Snape?"

"Severus, if you please."

He took this as cue to remove the hood and face bandage. The shock on faces of the staff was clear to see, but rather than show distress or concern for his transformation, most of them seemed to be fighting the urge to laugh, some unsuccessfully.

"Blimey," said Hagrid, before falling silent.

"Oh, my, Severus, what did you do to yourself?" asked Flitwick, whose hair was very white now.

"He took a Younging Potion," Dumbledore explained. A fresh round of snickers circled the table. Some of the teachers were more adept at hiding their amusement than others. Professor McGonagall and the witch with the heavy makeup were giggling behind their hands. "Really, Minerva, this isn't funny," Dumbledore said irritably.

Professor McGonagall did not seem to agree. She gave Severus a fond look. "But, Albus, he's such a bonnie wee babe." The younger witch with the heavy makeup lost the battle with her giggles and laughed openly at this. Severus felt his cheeks grow hot.

Professor Kotter, who appeared to be the youngest Professor in the room beside himself, had a sprinkle of grey in his curly brown beard and drew the attention from the laughing witch by asking, "Has Persephone seen him yet?"

Severus wished he had left her out of this. He could practically feel the dark mood radiating from Dumbledore. "She confessed to brewing the potion," said Dumbledore tersely. He clearly did not approve of the levity.

Professor Kotter raised his eyebrows.

"She didn't..." Hagrid began.

"He took it willingly," Dumbledore continued. "It's unlikely the potion would have worked otherwise. Unfortunately, Severus can not speak for himself as he has no memory of the last twenty-one years. His body and mind have reverted to seventeen, somewhere towards the end of his sixth year."

"So he doesn't have to remember being without her," the angular witch sighed with her hand over her heart.

"Professor Vector..." Dumbledore began, frustration seeping into his voice.

"Forgive us, Headmaster," said the dark haired witch. "We never knew Severus Snape was such a romantic." More of the staff was losing their battle with mirth now. Even Hagrid was grinning at him.

Severus wished the earth would swallow him. Like Dumbledore he was irritated and disturbed that the other teachers were not taking this more seriously, but his scowl and flushing cheeks only served to increase their mirth.

"Professor Sinistra, that is not helpful." Dumbledore stared at his staff with incredulous irritation but attempted to press on without losing his temper. "We need to figure out how we are going to cover the Potions lessons for the rest of the year. I do not have time to interview new staff right now. I may need all of you to dedicate a portion of your free periods." That sobered them a little.

"Why not let him finish out the year?" Professor McGonagall suggested, her tone now business-like. Both Severus and Dumbledore blinked at her in surprise.

"He's a teenager, Minerva."

"The boy was a prodigy, Albus," McGonagal said briskly. "Slughorn was always bragging on him. Said by his fourth year, he could easily teach a seventh year class. I remember some of the conversations we had. Incredible grasp of theory and not just for his age." Severus felt the heat in cheeks rising for fresh reasons. He had never heard anyone refer to him as a prodigy before, and it meant even more coming from Professor McGonagall.

"I know he's clever, Minerva, but what message will that send to the students?"

"That a Younging Potion is not a way to dodge responsibility," Minerva said firmly. "I'm not suggesting you hire him on permanently, but we can hardly turn him out. While he's here, he may as well be useful."

"I don't think you should mention the Younging Potion to the students," Professor Binns said gravely from his armchair. "Every time someone drags that monstrous concoction out there's always a copycat or two, and regrets... No one appreciates how precious their memories are until they're gone." A stir of unease rippled through the room.

"The Daily Prophet will have a field day with it," Professor Kotter added. "News has been slow since last summer, and they're hungry for a scandal. We can't really explain it without exposing Persephone as being the original. I would rather not do that."

"We could tell them there's been an accident," Sinistra suggested shrewdly. She was starting to look familiar to Severus, but he was having trouble placing her. "Severus is always playing about with some potions experiment or other, and this one went wrong. People will snicker over it, but it won't invite the same level of snooping."

Dumbledore's wrinkled brow furrowed into deeper lines and shadows. "I don't like it, but our enemies still lurk. It's best not to give them windows for attack. I had considered declaring Severus Snape dead, but obviously that story won't hold if we have him teaching classes. He might be safer dead." Severus found this a curious phrase. "But certainly more useful living...and far less paper work. However we should remember the Severus we have is only a sixth year. We're asking him to teach lessons he's never taken. It may be unreasonable to expect him to be up to the task."

McGonagall made a dismissive gesture, showing that was the least of her worries. "Professor Snape writes out ridiculously thorough lesson plans for his entire year every summer. All young Severus needs to do is follow them. You can handle that, can't you?"

Severus found McGonagall's gaze aimed sharply at him, and not wanting to disappoint her, nodded.

Dumbledore was considering him less optimistically. "I'd like to try, sir," he said, hoping for some sign of forgiveness. "If it would be less trouble for you..."

Dumbledore's eyes relented as other staff members nodded their approval of the plan. "I expect you to conduct yourself as a Professor, Severus. I remember some behavior issues that I can not tolerate from staff members"

"He was perfectly well behaved when James and Sirius weren't harassing him," McGonagall said impatiently. "Fine young men. I miss them dearly, but we both know they were little monsters back then." Flitwick smiled with sad fondness but also nodded in agreement.

"You think the students now will be easy on him?"

"I'd be able to dock points and give detentions, won't I?" Severus asked. He was feeling a little intimidated by the idea but a little excited too.

Professor Sprout chuckled. "See, he's a natural."

"Aurora," sighed Dumbledore. "I'll have to ask you act as Head of Slytherin House, but keep in mind, this is a trial period."

"As you wish, Headmaster," Sinistra said, sitting a little straighter and trying not to look too pleased with herself. "I'd be happy to cover his afternoon classes, but morning are little difficult for me." The mornings were divvied up among the other professors, who were relieved that their free periods would only be taken for a couple of days.

"So it's settled. Severus, you're temporarily rehired," said Dumbledore. "If everyone would please re-introduce themselves to Professor Snape."

They went around the table, giving their names or explaining their current positions. Flitwick, McGonagall, and Sprout had all been promoted to head of their respective houses. Severus realized Sinistra's promotion meant he had been head of house too and was now even more confused by his older self.

"Daniel Kotter, Muggle Studies," winked at him with his introduction.

Hagrid was now teaching Care of Magical Creatures, which was no small surprise. Hagrid had scandalized Lucius's court by drinking too much, too often, and one night setting his own bed on fire. Persephone had heard the story straight from the enormous man, who seemed to think the incident funny. Severus reminded himself that was twenty-two years past now, and no doubt Hagrid had sobered up. The only thing more surprising was the centaur, Firenze, who was watching him with a loftily amused expression, too proud to laugh. Severus thought they hated wizards, but the only one in the room who seemed uncomfortable with the half-breed was the other Divination Teacher, the airy voiced Professor Trelawney. And she struck him as rather dotty.

Dumbledore asked for everyone's discretion and abandoned him to Sinistra's care as the meeting broke up. Hagrid stepped over to place a heavy hand on his shoulder and tell him he was welcome to come by his cabin any time if he needed advice or summat. Severus was not sure what summat was but doubted he needed it.

Kotter laughed loudly as he left the room with Noachian and Professor Vector. Professor McGonagall had Severus stand up for her inspection and commented that his robes needed to be taken in. Sinistra said she would see to it.

Trelawney offered to do a card reading for him, but McGonagall walked her out. Sinistra pulled the hood back over his head and guided him out of the staff room. When they reached an empty hallway, she abruptly stopped and hugged him. "Thank you so much, Severus. I was beginning to think I'd have to wait for you to die before I got a shot at head of house. This works out well for both of us, don't you think?"

Severus had no answer for her, but she did not seem to expect one. She guided him down to the dungeons by his shoulders and lead him into a small sitting room with a sort of kitchenette along one wall. "This is your apartment," she said. "I don't think I've been in here before." She looked around curiously, but like the office, there was little to see. Two armchairs faced the fire with a small circular table and lantern between them. The kitchenette was a row of upper and lower cabinets with a sink set into the middle of the counter. The wall facing the cabinets held open shelves full of books and a few odd, very academic looking curios like a globe, a bust of Socrates and another of Merlin acting as book ends, and something akin to a pantograph. The fourth wall was bare stone.

There were two doors in one corner. Sinistra opened one and peaked inside. "Oh, look, more books," she said dryly. Severus, peeked in, rather pleased to see what looked like either a very large closet or second bedroom that had been converted into a proper library. Sinistra opened the second door. "Here's the bedroom. I'm guessing the bathroom is through there, and the closet."

The bed was large and ornately carved. The style reminded him a bit of the dorm beds, and he guessed that piece of furniture at least had come with the apartment. The sheets were black but looked to be high quality. The sitting room fireplace opened into the bedroom as well.

Compared to the narrow, claustrophobic green bedroom that he had grown up in, the apartment was a palace, but like the office, it seemed to lack signs of life. Sinistra pointed her wand at the fireplace and a flame sprang to life behind the grate. "That helps a little." A few lamps had lit themselves when they entered. "I'm going to tell the house-elves to send your lunch in here," she told him. "Why don't you take a little time to explore, and I'll check back in on you a little later this afternoon."

She fluttered out. Severus shrugged off the cloak and sank down on the end of the bed. It seemed clear to him that no one on staff missed him, with the possible exception of Dumbledore. He started to wonder if his classmates had missed him but remembered he had not disappeared during his student days. The twenty years were blank for him, but as far as everyone else was concerned he had been there all along.

There was a small crystal butterfly on the nightstand, half-hidden behind a book, which looked horribly out of place. He knew how it felt.

oOo

* * *

oOo

The house-elves left a small feast on his counter at lunch time. He fixed himself a small plate and had just sat down to pick at it when there was a knock on the door. He found Persephone and the female prefect, Her-ninny or something, waiting outside.

"Hope you don't mind," Persephone said. "Hermione was worried about you."

"It's fine," he said. The taller girl crept in uneasily, while Persephone closed the door. "Have you been here before?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, no," Persephone said. "Daniel told me how to find you."

"Daniel?"

"The Muggle Studies professor."

"You're on a first name basis?"

"Well, we went to school together. Don't you remember?"

He didn't.

"Daniel Kotter. I guess he looks rather different now, never had a beard in school. He was the Hufflepuff prefect in Narcissa's year. He dated Carlotta Hipworth for a few weeks."

Severus had no idea who Carlotta Hipworth was either.

Persephone smiled at him indulgently. "It's not important," she said and kissed his cheek. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the bushy haired prefect was studying his bookshelf. Persephone captured one of his hands in hers and swung it gently.

He was still not used to this. When the power of speech returned to him, he asked if they wanted a tour. The prefect started and said, "Sure." But they were interrupted by the gurgling of his stomach.

"Eat first," Persephone laughed.

He nibbled his lunch while the girls picked at the food on the counter. The house-elves had only sent one plate. Persephone explained that Hermione was one of Harry's best friends. Severus asked if she was close to Draco too and watched her color rise while protesting that she absolutely was not. "My relationship to Malfoy is more like a...negotiation."

Persephone giggled and dropped into the empty chair. "You fixed your teeth," she observed when he took a wide bite.

"Can I see?" Hermione asked, stepping forward. Severus was not eager to show off, but he preferred her look of curiosity to the wide-eyed fear. He attempted to grin as he bared his teeth for their inspection, but it felt very awkward and quickly closed his lips again. "It looks good," she said.

Persephone insisted on a closer look, pulling his mouth open her thumb, while she leaned over him. Not exactly the sort of closeness he had been hoping for, but her fingers resting against his jaw felt nice. Her head titled to the side. If not for the witness, he might have tried for a kiss. Persephone caught his eye and grinned at him. "They're pretty."

He knocked her hand away with playful irritation.

When the food was gone, he gave them a brief tour. Hermione seemed to envy his room of books. Persephone ran her fingers across the spines as she read titles. "You know I told James about Harfang's, and he and Sirius went without me. Said they found something to help Lupin."

"We could go sometime," Severus suggested.

Persephone glanced at him apologetically. "You told me Harfang died three years ago. Closed the shop long before that."

"How did he die?"

"Natural causes I think. Heart failure. He was near a hundred."

They left the room of books and settled in the bedroom where two additional doors revealed a bathroom and a walk-in closet. The bathroom was very nice. Plenty of marble and gold fixtures, including the toilet. The sink and tub were both oversized. The girls set about inspecting the few bottles they found by the mirror.

"I don't see any facial cleanser," Hermione commented.

"There's soap," Severus said pointing out a bar.

Hermione nodded as though understanding something. "Is this what you use for your hair?" she asked, and Severus shrugged. She exchanged a glance with Persephone. "I think I could find you something that works a little better for your skin type."

Severus bit down his usual retort and shrugged.

"I'll ask Lavender what she uses. She has..." the prefect trailed off uncomfortably.

Persephone stepped over to him and put a hand on his robes. "I can fit these for you," she said. "You were a little taller before." She gave him a shy smile. "I guess you will be again, but I can always let them out."

"Go ahead," he said.

She pulled out her silver wand and studied him. "_Tayloris." _A golden light shot from her wand to circle him. His robes shrunk up and fit more comfortably. Persephone's eyes traveled over him approvingly.

"Doesn't that spell weaken the fabric?" Hermione asked.

"A bit," Persephone admitted. "But more when you lengthen than when you shrink them. And if you're careful with the thread distribution it's not noticeable." She took a bit of Severus's sleeve in hand and tested it. "See it's fine. If I did it a lot, it'll get brittle, but they should be fine if all I do is let them back out to their original length."

Severus thought having robes that fit helped him look a little taller and less like a limp blanket, so he asked Persephone if she'd adjust the rest of his wardrobe. He trusted her to do it more than Sinistra. There were no clothes in the closet. They discovered those in a large wardrobe. His socks, underwear, and sleeping garments were neatly folded in the dresser. He had to wear the robes for her spell to work, which made the process tedious. After two more outfits, they agreed to save the rest for another day.

The closet was full of boxes and odd items, which finally yielded some of the signs of life he had been hoping to find. They dusted them off. Opening one from the furthest, dark corner yielded the sad remnants of his childhood. A toy wand that still emitted yellow sparks when flicked. "That's all it does." A grey stuffed cat that he had no memory of ever playing with. A collection of rocks and odd found items like rusty screws that he remembered thinking very fascinating at age five, but now simply looked like a box of rocks.

Another box held letters that he decided to go through later. They spent a quarter of an hour trying to find the keys to unlock two sealed strongboxes. The keys were found in a smaller box. Inside the strongboxes were a collection of items, many marked with runes, that Hermione believed to be minor tools of dark magic. Severus concurred with her, and they locked the boxes back up without touching the contents. They made him uneasy.

There was a box of tools, a box full of ink bottles and stationary, a box of cufflinks, a hat which he doubted had ever been worn, a box of games including a Muggle chess set, a deck of Self-Shuffling playing card, and a set of Gobstones, a box of Spellotape and other magical bonding agents, a box containing a very pretty silver instrument that he could not recall the purpose of, a box with a shiny pair of dress shoes and another with neatly folded dress robes, black of course, both of which he guessed were too seldom worn to be kept with his other clothes.

"This one seems to be full of blank journals," Hermione said, passing one of the books over for his inspection. It was green with a cloth binding. The box she had pulled it from contained what looked to be about ten identical journals. Maybe he had found them on sale. Severus flipped it open to see if the paper was lined and found it full of writing.

"I thought you said these were blank?"

"They are. See." Hermione held up another book. The page she showed him was also filled with his cramped handwriting.

For a second, he thought she was having a go at him but quickly realized the books must be enchanted so only he could read them. To test the theory, he asked Persephone what she saw. She stopped playing with the stuffed cat and twisted to look. "Blank page. Why? What do you see?"

"Writing," he said. He flipped back to the first page and read the title.

_The Memoirs of Severus Snape_

"Seriously?" he muttered. When had he become pretentious enough to use the word _Memoirs_? No wonder he had enchanted them to be unreadable.

"What does it say?" Both girls looked curious.

"Journal of some kind," he muttered, sticking it back in the box.

To their credit the girls did not pry for details, though Hermione suggested they might help recover some of his memories.

"Professor Binns said no one appreciates how precious their memories are," Severus said sardonically. Hermione blanched, and Persephone patted his back. They must have thought he was upset, but he more bemused by the idea that he had started keeping a diary. What was the point of writing something down if you had no plans to share it?

"Excuse me. Be right back," Persephone said, before slipping into the bathroom.

Severus watched Hermione put the lid back on his box of _Memoirs_. "What was I like?" he asked her.

She looked up sharply and seemed to be made uneasy by the question. "Well...you were very...intelligent, and—"

"Seriously, what was I like?" Severus asked. He suspected he would get a more honest answer from her than Persephone. Not that Persephone would lie, exactly, but she thought Moaning Myrtle was pleasant company.

"You were a little mean, honestly," Hermione admitted. "I understand _why_ a little better now. But you took your issues out on people who didn't deserve it. You picked on Harry because he looks like his father. You picked on Neville because he's a slow learner. You picked on me...I don't know why the hell you picked on me. But a teacher shouldn't say the things you did. I used to think it was because I'm Muggle-born, but..."

"I don't care about that," Severus said lamely.

Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You _were _a Death Eater. I know you stopped and started spying for the Order, but—"

"Wait! I was a spy?!"

Hermione blinked at him in surprise. "Hasn't anyone told you?"

Severus shook his head. "I was in the hospital wing all night. Persephone told me a little about Voldemort and Harry, and I remember hearing a little about the Death Eaters...back in my own time, but..." Persephone emerged from the bathroom. "I was a spy?!"

She stopped open mouth and looked from him to Hermione. "I did tell you it was a long story..."

"You weren't all bad," Hermione said quickly. "I mean over all I'd say you're a good teacher. Consistent and you kept us challenged. You certainly know your subject. You just favor Slytherin a little too much." Severus frowned. He had thought Hermione was a Slytherin prefect, but her comments made that seem unlikely. Muggle-born. "But you did save Harry's life, and I know you tried to save Sirius even though you two hated each other and..."

"I thought you were a very good teacher," Persephone said, sitting down behind him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Hermione's lips tightened into a thin line. Severus was starting to like her, but at the moment, he wished she was far away. Persephone was oblivious to the awkwardness she was causing and rested her chin on his shoulder. "Did they figure out who was going to cover your classes?"

"Oh, they're going to let me finish out the year," Severus said, trying to sound casual.

Hermione blinked at him in surprise. "Really?"

Persephone squeezed his shoulders. "That's fantastic!"

Severus was not so sure it was all that fantastic. From the sound of it, most of the students hated him. "Sinistra is going to cover the next couple days, then they're going to let me try. Professor McGonagall said all I had to do was follow the lesson plan." He remembered something that made him a little less nervous. "She said I was a prodigy."

Hermione actually looked a little jealous over the last bit.

"It's mainly review at this point, right?"

Hermione nodded. "I'll help anyway I can," she said.

Severus blinked at her. "Why?" he asked.

Hermione looked at her hands nervously. She seemed to be struggling, so he decided to throw her a bone.

"It's obvious you and Draco helped her make the potion," he told her. "I think Dumbledore knows too, but they've decided to tell everyone it was an accident. I just don't understand why you're involved."

"I was trying to help," said Hermione, looking sadly at him. She paused again, trying to gather her words before speaking. "Every time we haven't trusted you, you pulled through. But when I saw Persephone kiss you, I went straight to the worst conclusion, and I should have given you the benefit of the doubt. I thought I could help fix things, but I think I just made a bigger mess."

"You kissed him?" he asked Persephone.

"I kissed you," Persephone said, letting her arms slide off his shoulders.

"When I was thirty-eight," he said. He stood up to stand against the wall with his armed crossed. One little kiss, he might dismiss, but the puzzle pieces were falling together. The winks, the knowing smiles, her increased physicality with him, his own willingness to toss out twenty-years and a respectable career, so they could _be together_. There had been more going on than one innocent kiss. He felt betrayed and unreasonably jealous. His mind flew back to his first moment in the office. She had not been kissing him like that. She had been kissing _him_ like that. "Don't you think that's a little creepy? A thirty-eight-year-old professor kissing a sixteen-year-old student."

Hermione looked flustered. "Normally, yes. But it's not a typical situation. It's not like you were molesting her. You grew up together, and she'd been kidnapped."

"Severus, you were still you," Persephone said gently.

"No, I wasn't!" he shouted. "I'd never use dark magic! I'd never—!" But apparently he had. Persephone was up in an instant. Her arms wrapped around him, hugging him tightly. "I'm not him... How could you...?" But his arms tightened around her shoulders, he needed the comfort too much to resist her.

"I think you two need to talk without me here," Hermione said, getting to her feet. Severus was both grateful and nervous to see her leave.

He buried his face in Persephone's hair. That giant, enormous, evil black bed with the boxes scattered across it was staring at him, and he was afraid to ask her what he needed to know.

"I know how hard it is," she said, softly, her ear pressed against his heart. "It's why I tried to stop you. You've been taken from everything you know, and everyone you know is gone. But you were here for me, and I'll be here for you."

Severus laid his head back against the stone. Sometimes she understood him so well, and other times she got him all wrong. "You didn't turn into someone awful."

"You weren't awful. You were extraordinary," she murmured. "You only became a Death Eater because you were looking for me, and you did a lot of other good things that you couldn't tell anyone about because you had to keep your cover. You were stern like McGonagall, but you really cared about your students. And you..."

"You miss him," Severus said, not sure if he liked that or not.

She stepped back and looked up at him. "_He_ was you," she said stubbornly. "You were inside him. There was just _more_ of you. You were a little taller, and a lot more experienced. And you seemed so sure of yourself. You're voice was...everything seemed like it would be okay as long you were talking to me."

"You were in love with him?" he asked, feeling heavy.

"Course, I was..."

He crossed back over to sit on the edge of the bed. "And now what? I'm less than he was? You'd rather have some pervy old Professor after you?"

Persephone rolled her eyes and exclaimed in French, "Arrêter d'être s'insupportablement stupide!" She sat down on the bed beside him with an annoyed look. "You were a thirty-eight year old virgin. I think that's about as un-pervy as they come. We had one decent kiss, and you kicked me out of your office for five months, because it was _inappropriate_. You told me I should be with a boy my own age, and now you're my own age, so could you please stop! I love you. I've been smitten with you since the first time we talked, and I'm even more smitten with you now, and most men would like to know they'll still be attractive when they get older."

He knew what she was saying made sense, that he should be flattered, and he was relieved to know the relationship had not been more physical. At the same time, he was afraid to trust it. Had she really been hiding her feelings from him that long or was she rewriting history because they were stuck together now? "I don't know what to think."

Persephone turned his face towards hers. "We don't have to be together like boyfriend and girlfriend if that's not what you want, but you're still my best friend, Severus. I _love_ you. I'm here for you however you want me to be. But I'd like to be your girlfriend."

She looked so sad and scared, he knew he was bungling things. He wished he could get his words to work. He tried to think what Lucius would do, but Lucius was very careful about keeping private moments private. _Above all, it's your duty to protect a lady's reputation_...but that was not helpful right now. The evil bed was throwing suggestions at him, but that only made him ashamed of himself. If she could see some of the thoughts he kept hidden away, she probably would call him pervy and be done with him, but maybe not...she had just told him about as pointedly as she possibly could that she wanted to be his girlfriend. There was quite a bit he would like to do with her that was not pervy at all, just boyfriend and girlfriend stuff.

Shoring up his courage, he tried to close the remaining distance between them. Persephone relaxed. She closed her eyes and offered her lips in anticipation. He was almost there when a pounding at the door interrupted him. He cursed rather badly, which caused Persephone to look at him with a shocked expression. He glared in the direction of the door, wanting very badly to hex the person on the other side. Persephone defused him with a quick kiss and hopped off the bed. He slipped his hand in hers and held it to keep calm as they returned to the sitting room.

Sinistra smiled at them as she entered, eyes sliding down to their clasped hands. "Sorry to interrupt." Feeling embarrassed, he released his grip.

"Hermione and I were helping Severus find everything," Persephone said quickly. "But Hermione had to go."

Severus did not like the way Sinistra was smiling at them. "I was just checking in, but I see you already took care of your robes. Well, I'll leave you be. Just don't sleep here, Sephi. I'm on probation as Head of Slytherin House. Need all my students in their own beds."

"I think I ought to go," Persephone said. "I'll come back in the morning before class." She squeezed past Sinistra, who shut the door behind her.

"Don't look at me like that, Severus," Sinistra said breezily. "She'll be back. I broke into your office and found your lesson plans. I've already copied down what I need for tomorrow." She handed him a bound notebook bearing the Hogwarts crest. He was curious enough to stop feeling angry at her. "You don't recognize me, do you? We overlapped for a few years in Slytherin. I was in Bellatrix Black's dorm."

"I thought you looked familiar," he said, flipping open the planner. He found the date and cursed again. "I forgot her birthday."

"Better watch that tongue while you're teaching," Sinistra clucked. "Little Sephi turns seventeen, doesn't she?" She paused and looked at him. "I understand why you did it, Snape. I do. It was dumb, selfish, and probably unnecessary, but if I could be young again..." She shook her. "I'd probably still make the same stupid mistakes, but you're a lot smarter than I am. You'll be fine."

oOo

* * *

oOo

When she left, Severus read over the lesson plan, skimmed through the box of letters, and tidied up the bedroom. In one of the boxes he had yet to open, he found his vault key and a ledger of his account at Gringotts. His eyes widened as he realized that he had far more money than he could ever have dreamed in his youth. He doubted it would have impressed Lucius, but it made him feel less worried about what he was going to do when the term ended. At least his older self had provided well for him.

Less angry and more curious, he decided it might be a good idea to see what else his older self had left behind, and settled onto the bed to read the first _Memoir_.

_The Memoirs of Severus Snape_

_I am making this record to act as my testimony if I should die before the true history of the Death Eaters can be laid bare before the public. I give some of my personal history in hopes that it will explain my motivations, but I make no attempt to justify my actions or in actions. Let it stand as my confession and my warning to other foolish young men. This is not a bed time story for children. There is no happy ending or tidy moral. There is only a lull, a respite while the enemy lurks close out of sight, waiting to return. And when this murderer of hope and reaper of souls returns, I must meet him with the guise of a friend and call him master. It is my lot and my penance, even though his name has become like bile to my tongue._

_I was born, which may go down in history as my first mistake..._

Severus put the book down, not sure how much more he could take. There was a whole box full of these?

The house-elves had sent up some dinner for him. He changed into his night clothes, fixed another plate, and brought it back to his bedside table. He was going to need nourishment to make it through. He skimmed through the first several pages, since he was already familiar with the history in them. His older self made connections between events and news articles that he had missed, but then hindsight lent clarity. He had not had the benefit of the Death Eater's bragging.

Slowly he became engrossed as he read his own history over the next several hours. He began to understand the how and why, sometimes recognizing that he would have made similar choices, but it still felt like he was reading the words of a stranger. It was frustratingly obvious to him that Narcissa was behind Persephone's kidnapping, but he realized he only knew this because she had told him she had been held captive in a painting. Narcissa had claimed to have just finished a painting of Persephone on the same day she had been taken. Only an hour or so after his own memory stopped, after she had said yes to going to the dance with him.

_As friends or like a date?_

_Like a date._ He had felt so brave for saying it.

Persephone had smiled at him, so sweet and excited. _Yes! Yes, of course! I'd like that. I have to go meet Narcissa, but I'll come back, and we'll talk about it. Wait for me?_

And apparently he had waited...for twenty years. It was sad. Not just in a tragic way, but pathetic.

He had worried a little about Persephone's propensity for denial, which had become so strong over the past couple of years. Despite the increasing evidence, she refused to acknowledge her own talent as a Seer. But he had not tried to break her of it, because he knew it allowed her to function and keep her bright smile. Apparently he had been more like her than he realized, he had been able to shut down, ignore the evidence, refused to consider the possibility that she had stopped existing, so he could function.

He did understand one thing about his forgotten self that he doubted anyone else did. It was not some need to possess her that had drove this obsession, but the need for her to exist. If she was existing somewhere, even if it was far away with someone else, there was hope left in the world. She had become such an embodiment of everything good for him that he had come to believe goodness lived and died with her. This exaggeration of her importance had no doubt been cemented by the fact that the war which followed in the wake of her disappearance had indeed made the world much darker.

Removed from it, safe in a soft bed with the warm glow from the lantern, Severus could see the folly of it. Persephone was special, but putting the responsibility for all his happiness on her shoulders was unhealthy.

It was extremely late when he finally put the book down and fell asleep on the pillow. He answered the pounding summons to the door the next morning with bleary eyes. Persephone met him with a kiss and a hug, and despite the lack of sleep, he felt refreshed. They shared breakfast before Persephone left for class, but she returned for lunch and again when her classes were done. They finished exploring the apartment and transfiguring his wardrobe. He allowed her to change some of his shirts from black to white. They were mostly obscured by the long black robes he pulled over, but she insisted the contrast was an improvement. His entire wardrobe was black except for one inexplicable green sweater, so figured a third color could not hurt. She kept sneaking him quick kisses until he grew comfortable kissing her, and they sat on the bed, uninterrupted for several minutes doing nothing else.

He told her about the Memoirs, and at her behest, read a portion out loud. There was nowhere else to sit close together. The chairs were too far apart, and the stone floor too uncomfortable. So they stretched out on top of the covers of the oversized bed. Persephone sat against the headboard with a pillow propped behind her back. She encourage Severus to lay his head on her lap, so she could stroke his hair while he read. It was very comfortable.

He understood a little better why Sinistra had thought it necessary to tell Persephone not to stay the night. He was in no hurry for sex, but it would be easy to curl up and sleep close together.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Tuesday morning, after another long night reading, he was awoken early by Professor McGonagall. She waited in the sitting room, while he changed into his fitted day robes. "Much better," she said. "Have a seat, Severus, I have something important to discuss with you. The Wizarding Examinations Authority has determined that your previous N.E.W.T. scores are now invalid, since you are significantly younger than when you first took them."

Severus could see the logic but did not like it. "I'm guilty of my crimes, but not my accomplishments?"

"As far as I'm concerned you're not guilty of anything, but Dumbledore had decided you will have to take the exam this year if at all."

It took a second for Severus to realize what she said. "This year? But I'll be missing a whole year of material."

"You'll have to study on your own," said McGonagall. "Obviously, I'm not too worried about your Potions exam. You can prepare for it while you're reviewing the seventh year students. I can help you order the necessary texts, and of course the library will be open to you."

"But the tests are less than a month away," he protested weakly. It was better than not being allowed to take them at all, but the prospect of having his ten 'O's replaced by 'A's or worse was disheartening. If he spent all his free time reading, he might get through the textbooks, but spellwork required practice.

Professor McGonagall gave him a secretive smile. "I understand, Severus. You need more _time."_ From her pocket she pulled out a long chain with an hourglass pendant and held it up for his inspection. "Do you know what this is?" He had a suspicion but was afraid to guess. "It's a Time-Turner," McGonagall said, and he could almost feel his heart skip a beat. "I may have fudged the truth a little to get it, but I'm going to trust you, Severus."

She explained how the Time-Turner worked and reviewed all the laws regarding it. He knew quite a bit already, having eagerly read several books on the subject, but schooled his face into a docile and attentive expression. He was afraid that if he seemed too eager she would deny him the treat. After extracting his solemn vow to follow the rules, observe secrecy from everyone including Persephone, and only use it to make time to study around his teaching duties, she handed the Time-Turner over. He slipped it around his neck and tucked it into his robes. _Time travel._ On top of everything else, he was going to get to experience time travel. This was more exciting than discovering kissing.

McGonagall tried to give him a few tips on maintaining order in the classroom and helped him fill out an order form for the textbooks he needed. He was almost sorry to see her go when breakfast arrived. "Professor Sinistra will come around at four o'clock to take you to see the headmaster," she told him. Severus was too nervous to ask why.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Persephone turned up with Hermione after the first period. Hermione had the morning free, and Persephone had finished her only class for the day. He told them about needing to retake the N.E.W.T.s but kept the news about the Time-Turner to himself as he had promised. Professor McGonagall was trusting him.

The girls had brought several bottles and a Quidditch magazine with them. He eyed them warily. Hermione identified them as facial cleanser, toner, shampoo, conditioner, and bubotuber cream. "They're designed specifically for oily skin types," Hermione explained. "I hope you're not offended, but I thought...well, teenagers usually have more acne issues than adults. What your adult self had might not be right for the skin you have now."

"I've used the cream before," Severus admitted, a little relieved to see it. The last thing he needed was a break out when he had to face the class tomorrow.

"This stuff smells better than what we used," Persephone told him cheerfully. "I got Draco to give me one of his bath bars too. It's moisturizing, exfoliating, and deodorizing." Both Severus and Hermione stared at her as she pulled out a small, shiny, dark blue box that included what looked to be gold foil on the packaging. "Don't you think Draco smells good?" she asked Hermione.

"I don't get close enough to sniff him!" Hermione protested.

Severus had always figured soap was soap but hoped this would pass quicker if he didn't argue. "What's the Quidditch magazine for?"

"Oh!" Persephone said, looking a little sheepish. "I thought you might like to try a modern hair cut."

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"Nothing," Persephone said quickly. "I like it. You just...well you have a habit of letting it fall over your face, and at the very least, you ought to brush it back. I think it's adorable, but you sort of hide...and you can't do that when you're teaching a class." Severus liked his hair curtains, but she was right about him hiding behind them. Invisibility was not the best trait for a teacher.

"We might find something to make you look a little older," Hermione suggested. "Or at least more...polished."

His instinct was to stubbornly resist, but twenty years in the future seemed like the time to try new things. Besides it would make Persephone happy. Like Pomfrey she had probably been waiting a long time to tweak him more to her liking. "Fine."

The Quidditch magazine was filled with moving pictures, many of the players sporting what he supposed were the most current styles. He vetoed a few of them right off. Persephone favored the long cuts, while Hermione thought he might look more professional with a short one. While he liked the idea of looking professional, he also liked the idea of Persephone's fingers in his hair and sided with her.

Hermione left them alone to eat lunch with her Gryffindor friends before class. Severus got in a little more kissing practice with Persephone before they shared their meal. After lunch he submitted to her washing and cutting his hair with minimal protest. They took the step stool from the library into the bathroom for him to sit on while she washed his hair in the sink. It was a little hard on his neck, but he found it bearable as her fingers massaged his scalp. The hair cut they settled on was not too dramatic, she simply trimmed the hair between his face and his ears to create long bangs that touched his cheek bones. "We want people to recognize you," she said, using her wand to speed the drying.

He had also assumed shampoo was shampoo, but whatever was in the bottles Hermione had brought left his hair, still sleek, but no longer lank. Persephone admired her work in the mirror, stroking his hair, combing the bangs one way, then the other, and finally letting them fall where they may. "See, you're pretty," she said, resting her hands on his shoulders and smiling like she genuinely believed it.

oOo

* * *

oOo

Severus would not have used the word pretty, but he was starting to consider the possibility that he might not be ugly.

Persephone ducked back out before Sinistra arrived to escort him to Dumbledore's office. Sinistra made an embarrassing fuss over his haircut but still insisted on guiding him up under the traveling cloak and bandages. Severus was glad for the walk.

They met Dumbledore at the foot of the stairs, and Sinistra left Severus to walk up with him. Dumbledore kept a hand on Severus's shoulder as they road up the spiral stairs. Once inside the office, Severus hung the cloak and bandages on a hook by the fireplace.

Dumbledore settled behind his desk. "You'll forgive me if I was curt with you the other day."

"I understand, sir," Severus said, eager to be back in Dumbledore's good graces. "I'm not as useful like this as I was."

Dumbledore winced and gestured for him to take a seat. "You're not a tool, Severus. But I didn't realize how much like Sirius you are. You both needed to feel useful." Severus took his chair with a scowl. He did not like being compared to Black. Dumbledore chuckled sadly. "I suppose I should abandon any further attempts to get you to understand each other. It seems to be an exercise in futility."

"He tried to kill me."

"He tried to scare you," Dumbledore corrected. "But it could have gotten you killed and left Remus with a permanent scar, I'll grant you that. Perhaps it will comfort you to know he spent nearly twelve years in Azkaban and died at the hands of his cousin Bellatrix Lestrange."

Yes, it did. "He was a traitor. And he killed a lot of other people. It wasn't some prank gone wrong, he was warming up."

Dumbledore raised his hand. "You've been reading up on recent history." He sounded a little impressed, even while his tone said there was more to the story.

Severus explained about the Memoirs, which seemed to be news to Dumbledore.

"I see. Everyone else thought Sirius Black was guilty too, but if you keep reading, you'll discover Peter Pettigrew was the true culprit and not the victim. Sirius Black was a loyal member of the Order of the Phoenix, which is something else I need discuss with you."

"Hermione told me I was a spy," Severus said eagerly.

Dumbledore grimaced and then nodded. "You were. You continued the role until recently, but I think Lord Voldemort ceased trusting you after the assault on Riddle House. He's made a few lazy attempts to kill you since Christmas, but he is attempting to play dead himself which makes killing others difficult. For the last few months I suspect he may have been using you to give the Order false trails to follow. It's impossible to say for certain.

"What I need you to consider now, and don't answer hastily, is if you would like to continue working for the Order of the Phoenix in some capacity. Harry will be leaving school this year, and that may be the opportunity Voldemort is waiting for. I suspect the war will intensify again soon and this peace we're enjoying is only a lull.

"You are more vulnerable now, Severus. Voldemort may mark you as a traitor, or he may attempt to recruit you again. Persephone will most certainly make a target of herself. I won't blame you if you both go into hiding, and if that is your choice, I will help you become well hidden. But Harry is Persephone's only remaining family and will need help. Think on it."

Severus was more grateful than ever for the Time-Turner tucked beneath his robes. This matter might take as much study as the N.E.W.T.s, and somewhere between the two, he was supposed to teach classes.

_Only remaining family_. "What about her parents?" Severus asked.

"She's an orphan," Dumbledore said somberly. "I'm sure the details will be in your journals."

"_Memoirs_," Severus corrected automatically, a feeling of loss welling up inside him.

"Memories. Which reminds me," Dumbledore said. "I have a gift of sorts for you." Dumbledore summoned a stone basin and some vials containing a white misty substance to his desk. "This is a Pensieve. It allows me to view memories without the clutter of my other thoughts getting in the way. I don't have time to show you every memory I have concerning you, but I thought a few might be helpful."

Severus nodded, intrigued by the device, though a little worried about seeing what he had been or was going to become. "This is from James," he said uncapping one of the vials and pouring it into the bowl. "He gave it to me when I was trying to weigh whether or not to trust your reform."

Severus eyed the swirling substance uncertainly, while two more vials and some strands from Dumbledore's own mind were dumped into the mix. Dumbledore held out his hand, and Severus took his fingers. "In we go," Dumbledore said, and Severus held his finger tighter as he felt himself pitch head first and fall into the mist.

They landed on the Hogsmeade train platform, familiar students darting all around them. "We're in no danger," Dumbledore said, and Severus realized he had been clutching his hand rather tightly. Embarrassed, he let go and looked about.

He saw himself floating his trunk onto the platform and waiting for his turn to reach the storage compartments. Unlike many of the cheery students around him, he wore a grim but determined expression. "Incidentally, I like your new hair cut," Dumbledore said, and Severus, who had also been studying the other Snape's appearance, smiled in spite of himself. He had always been pale and thin, and this other version was no different. He might have been a little taller, but the hunched posture made it hard to tell. He watched himself shove the trunk into place and shift his backpack in place on his shoulders. The other Snape glanced up, and his grim expression soured. Severus followed his own gaze to see James and Lily sharing a kiss on the train steps.

Lily laughed and ducked back onto the car. James leaned back holding the rails, enjoying his good fortune and apparently waiting for someone. He caught sight of Severus and watched him curiously for a moment.

The Snape of memory pointedly ignored him and started to walk against the flow of students back towards the castle. James dropped back down to the platform and followed him. "Where are you going, Snape?"

Snape stopped and looked at James with unfathomable eyes. "I'm going to search the forest."

James eyes widened with surprise and understanding. When he spoke again, it was with less suspicion. "They already searched the forest."

"Not like I will," the other Snape said, as though daring James to stop him.

Genuine worry and something like respect crept on to James features. "Dumbledore thinks Voldemort took her. He's made a lot of people vanish. I want her to be alive too, but there's been no demands, I think we need to accept that she's probably—"

"No," Snape cut him off. "She's alive, and I'll find her."

James looked at him uncertainly as though debating whether to call someone over. Not willing to wait for his decision, Snape turned away and resumed his determined walk towards the forbidden forest. James stared after him for a moment, face betraying a brief internal struggle and decision. "Good luck," he said, but it was hard to say if the other Snape heard him over the crowd.

The memory melted into white fog and another scene replaced it. Severus saw himself, looking even more bleak and weary than before, a little older, but somehow smaller, clutching a large mug. "Whatteryou doin' out there?" Hagrid asked him, filling the mug with hot tea.

"Looking," this scarecrow version of himself said. Severus realized he looked so small, because everything in the giant's hut was oversized.

Hagrid shook his shaggy head. "You won't do 'er any good gettin' yourself killed."

"I'll do whatever it takes," the other Snape muttered, putting the mug to his lips.

The scene faded and resolved into another room he did not recognize. A woman with a kind, round face stepped forward to shake the hand of his memory self. "Alice Longbottom," she introduced herself in firm but warm voice. "So you're our new information source? I'm grateful. You have no idea how much. Let's look at the map, shall we?"

They stepped over to a map spread out on a square table. Severus noticed there were a few other people milling about in the room, including Dumbledore and Remus Lupin. A couple men with reddish hair who might be brothers were watching him with very skeptical expressions. His older self ignored them. "The attacks are supposed to take place in this area. I know there's at least seven Death Eaters involved, but I'd be more worried about the giants."

"Giants?" someone echoed.

"I couldn't get an exact number, but several of them are coming..."

"We can handle giants," Alice said grimly. "Albus, if you're willing to get directly involved in this...?"

The scene faded and time lurched forward. An older version of himself, clearly taller now that he was standing straight but with the same hair cut, stood in Dumbledore's office with his sleeve rolled up. "It's gone," he said eagerly. "Surely that means he's dead."

"Broken, weak," Dumbledore corrected. "But not dead, Severus. He left a connection to himself on the boy."

"The scar?"

"It's not an ordinary scar," said Dumbledore. Snape's older self seemed to be waiting for him to say more on the subject, but the other wizard was lost in thought. "I ask you to be diligent, Severus. Everyone wants Voldemort to be gone. I suspect even your friend, Lucius Malfoy, is relieved to see that mark fade, but wishful thinking may blind us to the signs."

"They've made a pact not to testify against each other," Severus said slowly.

"You will honor that pact," Dumbledore said.

"And let Bellatrix Lestrange walk free?" Severus spat.

"For now," Dumbledore said cautiously. "Make no mistake, I will welcome and encourage testimony from other sources. It makes me uneasy to have Bella walking free, but if and when Lord Voldemort returns, it will be invaluable if he still trusts you."

His older self was breathing heavily and Severus found he had trouble reading his own expression. "Lucius said he's done with war, he wants to change the world through more legal means. I think you're right that he's relieved, but some of the others...they're nearly as bad as the Dark Lord himself."

"Then we must be watchful..."

The scene faded again and reformed. The room was familiar. The decor told him it was one of the Malfoy's Christmas parties. The version of him that Severus spotted looked so adult and confident, it was hard to believe it was really him.

"Whose memory is this?" Severus asked Dumbledore.

"Emmeline Vance," Dumbledore said, pointing out a stately witch in gold and white dress robes. "She shared this with me while I was doing a little investigating into Lucius Malfoy, tracking his new contacts, but I believe at this point you were both just there for the party. We had a few peaceful years."

A blonde haired boy in pale blue robes about six years old tugged on the long black sleeve of his elder self. "Mr. Snape, I need to tell you something," the boy said in an important voice.

Lucius looked far more adult than he remembered, but Severus thought he did not seem to have aged as much as his older self. Lucius's face had fewer traces of careworn lines and was filled instead with confidence and contentment. He looked down at the boy with a mixture of fondness and strained patience. "It's _Professor_ Snape, Draco, and leave him alone. It's about time your mother put you up to bed."

"It's all right," older Snape said, setting down his glass and having a seat on an expensive looking new couch, so he could look the boy in the eye. "What do you need to tell me?"

Little Draco took this as an invitation to perch himself on the Potions Master's knee, but he spoke in very authoritative voice, clearly attempting to imitate his father's style of speaking. "When I'm older, I'm going to go to Hogwarts, and you'll have to teach me magic."

"I look forward to it," Severus told him as some of the wizards and witches standing nearby chuckled. "Have you decided which house you'll be in?"

Draco's smooth little face creased as he contemplated this. "Which one's the best?" he asked shrewdly.

"You're parents and I were in Slytherin," Severus told him.

"Slytherin then," Draco said with a note of finality.

"I'm considering sending him to Durmstrang," Lucius said. "They just made Igor headmaster."

"You will do nothing of the sort," Narcissa said, stepping up and stretching out her arms for Draco, who flew to them. "Come along, my little dragon, let's put you to bed."

Narcissa was still very beautiful, but Severus found her rather repulsive now. His older self obviously had no clue what she had done, and it made him angry. "Do we have to look at any more of these?" he asked Dumbledore.

"Just one more." He was looking at Severus curiously, as though trying to understand why the party upset him.

The memory of Lucius was introducing an attractive, Egyptian looking witch to him. "Is Lucius alive?" he asked.

"As far as I know," Dumbledore said. "He was sent to Azkaban for a short time around two years ago, but he escaped. He's been in hiding since, though you've had some contact with him."

"He escaped Azkaban?" Severus said, impressed.

"It's fairly easy when the jailors have sided with Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore said dismissively.

The scene finally faded. Severus could tell he was already boring the Egyptian witch.

Now they were in the Hogwarts Potion lab. Dumbledore sat down at a table at the back of the classroom, and Severus did the same. The students shuffled in and took their seat. Severus realized he had not seen anyone in the classroom before they entered and looked at Dumbledore curiously. "Whose memory is this?"

"Mine," said Dumbledore. "I'm right there under a Disillusionment Charm. I feel it helps to make my observations less disruptive."

"Do you do this often?" Severus asked.

"Not often," said Dumbledore. "But I try to get around to everyone once a year or so. Don't expect this memory to be particularly exciting, but I thought it might be helpful to watch yourself teach a class, so you know what the students expect."

Severus nodded and settled in to watch himself teach a class. It was strange. Persephone was clearly insane to find him attractive, but he did have presence. He would have liked to have himself for a teacher. No nonsense, straight to the material. It reminded him a little of Professor Kraft, his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. No one made trouble in Professor Kraft's class. He never let James and Sirius get away with any of their pranks.

"Thank you, sir," Severus said after the memory ended, and they returned to the real world. "I'll try very hard to be a good teacher."

Dumbledore smiled a sad, fond smile at him. "I know you will, Severus."

oOo

* * *

oOo

Persephone came back to eat dinner with him. Professor Sinistra had helped him order a small cake from the kitchen, so they could have a belated birthday celebration, but his mind was too full to finish his piece. He put his arm around her while they talked about her parents, but the only kiss they shared was when she kissed him goodnight. She left early since he would be teaching his first class tomorrow, and she thought he needed his rest.

Severus did not argue with her, but what he really needed was more time.

He made a chart and fastened on a watch, so he was sure to avoid running into himself. He knew that was important. He took the next two journals from the box, and went into his library before using the Time-Turner. He sent himself back twelve hours. The library had direct access to the bathroom, so it seemed like the perfect place to hide from himself. The only time he had opened the door all day was to fetch the stool. He set the stool near the door and sat down where he would be hidden if it was open.

He spent the whole twelve hours reading with occasional breaks for water and the bathroom. He had to be careful to time those right and cast spells to muffle any sound. Mostly he read the _Memoirs_, but sometimes he searched the other books for answers to questions that occurred to him. The most exciting time travel incident was when the door flung open, and he glimpsed himself grabbing the stool. By the time it was safe for him to come out again, he was exhausted and hungry. He ate the rest of the left over cake and dropped onto his bed.

He overslept, badly. It was nearly two in the afternoon when he woke. He started to curse but remembered the Time-Turner. He changed into fresh robes, washed his face, and adjusted his white collar and cuffs. The white did make him look a little less pallid. "The new and improved, Professor Snape," he told the mirror. It stared back at him skeptically in response.

Back in the sitting room, he used the Time-Turner to return to early that morning. He reread the day's lesson plan and ate breakfast in his sitting room. Sinistra had offered to unveil him to the school at large that morning, but the idea of the crowd made him nervous. He might have to explain himself over and over to each class, but twenty some odd eyes seemed easier to bare than hundreds at once.

He only had one double class of first years this morning, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. It seemed like a good group to wet his teeth on. As fate would have it, the students were supposed to brew a Forgetfulness Potion. "Funny," he told his older self.

A very groggy Sinistra came to walk him to the Potions Lab. "I'm going to sit in on your first class," she yawned. "My plan is to let you do all the talking, but if you need help—" She yawned again.

He arrived early and sat down behind his desk. With a tingle of anticipation he opened the lesson plan and the corresponding page in the Potions text. The lesson plan had a copy of the Potions instructions, but he realized there was a slight variation. Four clockwise strokes instead of three. He felt a surge of disappointment over the mistake, but as he stared at the planner, he wondered if it was a mistake. Some wizards got very romantic over certain numbers like three and seven, but in this case a fourth stroke might blend better. He decided to trust himself and copied the instructions from the lesson plan onto the board. If nothing else, it would be an interesting experiment.

The first years shuffled into the classroom after the first bell. He glanced up at them. The first few did not seem to notice the change. They were caught up in their own thoughts and conversations or distracted by the presence of Professor Sinistra. He was starting to wonder if any of them were going to notice when a little girl stepped up to his desk.

"Excuse me, sir," she said in a low voice. "Where's Professor Snape?"

He realized he had hunched into one of his invisible postures and straightened up. _Think teacher._ "I'm Professor Snape," he answered at the same volume, pleased by the sound of the words. The Hufflepuff screwed up her face in confusion. "Have a seat, and I'll explain to everyone in a minute."

By the second bell, all the students were in their seats. The ones that were not busy setting up their cauldrons were staring at him with confused expressions. Severus stood to get their attention and walked in front of the blackboard.

oOo

* * *

oOo

It was easier than he had feared, though that might have been because the students were too stunned to cause trouble. He spent the first fifteen minutes telling them the official version of what had happened to him, answering a few questions, and taking role to learn their names. He knew how to brew a potion properly and had helped Lucius, Narcissa, Persephone, and more recently Avery and Regulus with their homework so often it felt natural to correct the individual mistakes of the first years.

Most of the first years darted out of the room when the class ended, but a few lingered gathering around his desk to ask questions. "_Are you going to keep getting younger?_" — "No." — "_If you can't remember, does my last test grade still count?_" — "Yes." — "_Are you sure you don't remember anything?_" — "Not from this past year." — "_Can you still give detentions?_" — "Do you want one?"

His last response earned him a few nervous giggles, so he advised they hurry off to lunch.

The little Hufflepuff girl from earlier lingered after the others. To Severus's distress he saw she had tears running down her cheeks. "What's wrong?" he asked her gently.

"You were my favorite teacher, and now you won't remember me," she said in a small voice.

Inwardly cursing his older self he tried to offer the girl a compromise. "I'll be here for the rest of the year, so I can make a new memory of you."

"But you're not coming back next year," she said, wiping her eyes.

"Maybe you'll like the next Potions Master even better," he suggested, trying to comfort her with practicality.

As she left, he thought it was nice to know that not all the students hated him. "I like how you handled that," said Sinistra. "Let them ask questions, but keep it short and Snape-ish. Routine can be very comforting." Severus resisted rolling his eye as he did appreciate the praise. "Lunch?" Sinistra asked.

"I'm going to eat in my room today," Severus said.

"Very, well," Sinistra said. "I'm going to let you fly solo this afternoon, but call for help if you need it."

oOo

* * *

oOo

Severus popped down to the kitchens to get some food for lunch and a bit extra for later. He packed it into a satchel along with his lesson planner, the Potions texts, and the next journal.

Alone in his office Severus checked his watch and gave the Time-Turner four turns. He stayed sequestered in the room, reading for a bit, and then deciding to make a thorough search of the office. While there were not a lot of knickknacks, there were a lot of jars, books, and desk compartments. He found the thin green journal he had used to write down Persephone's predictions and saw they were now marked with additional notes citing when they had come true. A remarkable number of them had, which reminded him that he ought to tell Harry about Persephone's dream.

He found several identical oversized envelopes in the bottom drawer, each containing a two inch thick stack of parchment. On further investigation he realized that his older self had written a textbook and was attempting to get it published. "That's so _cool_," he gasped. So he had been a Potions Master, Slytherin Head of House, a spy, a writer, and apparently completely blind to how ridiculously cool his life was.

In an effort to put his extra time to good use, he read more of the _Memoirs_ he had with him. They were well written, with a love for word play, dry humor, and long sentences that reminded him of a Dickens novel, but they were also angry, cynical, and sullen. He knew he would never be a cheerful little ray of sunshine like Persephone, but he had never thought he was quite this gloomy either. Some passages were so morose, they might have been comical if he did not know they were his future.

When he had thirty minutes to go, he pulled himself away from the Memoir to study the fourth years lesson plans. At five minutes to go, he slipped out before his past self walked in through the other door. He repeated more or less the same routine with the fourth years, though the Slytherins looked even more shocked than the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. He taught the class, answered questions, and ducked back into his office to live the hour over again. This time he slipped out before the bell rang to avoid running into a hallway full of students and waited down a side corridor so he could enter after they had settled.

He decided to enter with a running start, giving a quick version of the Potions _accident_ as he walked down to his desk to face the class. He tried to sound confident and self-assured, but the room of people his own age or older staring back was a little unnerving. The students began to murmur and giggle. He ignored them and focused on his speech. "I hope you will all take this as a cautionary tale. Even the most experienced Potion makers can make mistakes and will if they are not cautious. The consequences of which can be dramatic if not devastating."

"You did that by accident?!" a Hufflepuff girl gasped.

A Gryffindor's round face went white. "Is that even possible?"

"Of course, it's _possible_." Apparently Hermione was a Gryffindor prefect. Severus thought she was trying a little too hard not to sound guilty. The boy beside her caught his attention. He looked a lot like James, only not quite, and there was a scar barely visible under the hair brushed over his forehead. Harry.

"It's not common by any means," said Draco. He was sitting in the back, looking superior, like Lucius with shorter hair. "But yes, it's possible. He must have been experimenting with some very high level stuff."

"Exactly," said Hermione.

Severus knew Hermione was trying to help, but he was less sure about Draco's motives. He doubted Lucius would have approved of his son negotiating with a Muggle-born, but _why_. Sure Hermione was pretty and smart, and it could be that simple. But had Draco helped with the Younging Potion to help her or him or his father...or his mother?

Professor Snape realized he was losing momentum with the students. "It's understandable that you all have questions, but I would prefer if we devote class time to the review. Please turn to page two hundred fifty-seven." He walked behind his desk and flipped opened his own copy of the text.

"This is a joke."

Severus located the speaker. "And your name?"

"Terry Boot." Ravenclaw. "Dumbledore can't-"

Severus smiled. It was his first time to dock points. It felt good.

He plunged through the review as outlined in his notes. Hermione was extremely active, but the other students barely spoke unless he singled them out. After class he agreed to answer questions again. Most of them were the same ones he had answered before, but that made them easy to answer again. He dismissed them as the next class entered, but the boy that looked like James stepped close.

"Could I talk to you later?" he asked, looking very serious.

Severus told him that they could talk now and led him into his office, where he closed the door and warded it against eavesdroppers. Harry might have looked like James, but Severus found he reminded him more of Lily. Considering the number of shocks he was no doubt giving him, Harry rolled with them fairly well. Severus found him a little slow (which he made allowance for considering the shock) but comfortingly mature. Like Lily he listened, and like Lily he cared.

After Severus had finished answering a few questions and warning him about Persephone's nightmare, Harry asked, "Is it weird? Being here, now?"

"Weird would be an appropriate word," said Severus. "You know, the strangest part has been reading through those memoirs, the journal left by my older self. It's strange because there's this man with my name. And he's me, but then he's not me. He was a miserable, bitter man, who went through hell and dragged it around with him." He gave Harry an apologetic smile. "I heard he gave you a rather hard time of it."

"A bit."

"Sorry…you know maybe I should be scared about the Death Eaters and war and all that, but they don't seem real yet. What frightens me—what really frightens me—" And he had not quite put his finger on it until that moment. "—is that I'm going to have to turn into him all over again."

"You won't," said Harry.

He sounded so confident. "How can you be sure?"

"Because it frightens you," said Harry. "Because your choices make you what you are. Because I think he wrote all that down, so that people like him wouldn't have to go through it, and you're not stupid enough to waste the effort."

Severus hoped not. Getting a pep talk from a boy who looked so much like James was a little weird, so he fished for a different subject. "So, you play Quidditch?"

"Yeah," Harry smiled. "I'm the Gryffindor Seeker."

Severus smiled and looked out the window again. "I wanted to try out for Seeker. I was getting pretty decent at it. Lucius always made me play that position over the summer, because I couldn't throw or hit worth anything."

"Why didn't you?"

Severus shrugged. "Persephone hates Quidditch."

Harry frowned. "She told you not to try out?"

"No, she never said a word about it." She had started a fight once by telling James she thought Severus was a better Seeker, but she had never discouraged him from playing. He had simply thought he'd be unable to bear bringing a terrified look on her face every time he went out to play.

"Then why — Are you in love with her?"

"I don't know," said Severus. He wished people would stop asking that. It was private. "Everything's happened so fast. I'm still a little disoriented." At the same time, he wanted Harry's opinion. "I fancied her a bit when we were students together, but I'm a teacher now. Wouldn't exactly be proper, would it?"

"No, it wouldn't," Harry agreed so quickly Severus felt his insides coil up defensively. There was a tense silence between them, which Harry broke with a forced smile. "Bet you're the youngest Professor Hogwarts has ever had."

It was obvious attempt to change the subject, but Severus welcomed it. "I had been hoping, but apparently not. They had a ten-year-old prodigy teaching Charms about three hundred years back."

"Seriously? I bet there was interesting story behind that."

"Yes, there probably was."

Harry blinked at him as though expecting more.

"I found it in a book of records," Severus explained. "It didn't give details."

"Guess I'll get going," said Harry.

When Harry left, Severus went over his notes for the last class of the day, keeping an eye on his watch. At the right time, he spun the Time-Turner back one hour and went to teach a class of second years.

oOo

* * *

oOo

He was very tired by the time the last class let out. His past self should have left his bed empty by now, so he returned to his apartment and laid down without undressing. He had not been sleeping long when a knock woke him. He decided to ignore it and went back to sleep, but not before setting an alarm to wake him in six hours.

Six hours later, he awoke, rubbed his eyes, walked into his sitting room, turned the Time-Turner back six hours, double checked that the bedroom door hid his sleeping past self, and answered the door.

Persephone poured in and hugged him. He squeezed her shoulders and said, "Let's sit in here for a change."

She did not object. "You have to tell me all about your first day teaching."

He recounted it for her as briefly as possible and encouraged her to do her homework while he read over his lesson plans for the next day. She opened her book bag, but it was hard to say if she got anything done. She kept asking him questions, which was distracting. Eventually she perched herself on the arm of his chair and played her fingers through his hair. It might have been nice if he wasn't trying to concentrate on the Potion Instructions he needed to teach the third years. The deviations from the book were more dramatic, and he needed to understand why they were there before he tried to teach them. Persephone slid her hands to rub his hunched shoulders, and his body and brain began arguing with each other. "Persephone, I need to work on this," he pleaded.

"Sorry," she said, returning to her own chair. Now he couldn't think at all. She sat staring at the fire with a book in her lap.

"Don't you need to get your homework done?" he prompted.

"I don't see how it matters," Persephone said. "We're both expelled right?"

"Why don't you ask Sinistra if you can take the N.E.W.T.s this year?"

She looked slightly intrigued by the idea. "I'm probably not ready," she said.

He knew the feeling, but he was a prodigy with a Time-Turner. "If you can pass a few that's better than not getting any N.E.W.T.s levels at all right?" She considered this. "It worth a try."

"You're right," she said. "Worst I can do is fail."

"Worst you can do is not try," he corrected, and she smiled at him. Severus shook his head and tried to focus on his lesson plan. What would she do if he didn't look out for her?

She picked a different book from her bag and started humming. He was used to studying in the common room, so the humming was easier to tune out. He had almost puzzled out the Potions problem when she asked, "What do you want to do this summer?"

Severus made a quick note before he lost the thought. "I need to get through tomorrow first." He knew they needed to have that discussion so he added, "We'll talk about it when exams are over, okay? But I can't let Dumbledore down. Not anymore than I already have."

"Your parents are alive," said Persephone.

"They disowned me," Severus muttered, trying to get back to his Potions problem and making a note before he lost his train of thought.

"You told me it was because you took the Dark Mark."

"So?"

"You've never taken the Dark Mark."

Severus scowled at her. She was undermining his perfect escape.

"I'd like to see them again," said Persephone. Of course she did. They liked _her_. He had her over once last summer, when his father had forbidden him from going to the Malfoy Manor anymore, and she absolutely charmed them.

His father had actually smiled at him when she left. _Better hold onto that one, Severus. You're not going to do better. _His parents had trouble understanding the distinction between girl who is a friend and girlfriend.

Then again he doubted his father thought he would become Head of Slytherin House or realized he was a prodigy. "I'll write them," Severus said to head off a longer discussion. Slytherin girls were good at getting their way. Besides he did not entirely dislike his mother.

"Would you like me to make some tea?" Persephone asked.

"Yes," he said hoping it would keep her busy. It did for a while. She found all she needed in his cabinets and used a crane and trammel to set the kettle over the fire. He managed to finish the third year Potions problem before she set the steaming cup beside him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." To his relief, she finally settled into reading one of her school books.

He put his work away when dinner arrived. Since the table was small, they shared a plate, and Persephone took every opportunity to brush her hand against his. It was kind of nice but frustrating at the same time. He wanted to sit closer to her but trying to squeeze into the same chair would have been a little too intimate.

He told her he was going to bed early to make sure they were both out of the room before his past self walked in from the bedroom. She kissed him goodnight, but he kept it short so they would not lose track of time.

He sequestered himself in the library until nearly eleven working out a Time-Turner plan.

oOo

* * *

**Author's Note:** I was wrong about something. This level of the story does have a grand theme. It's love. Now, you may think like I first did...well, duh, it's a romance. But really much of the story has been about Snape trying to find balance between his love for Persephone, his love for Dumbledore, and (in the flashbacks) his love for Lucius. In Greek terms, they're symbolically Eros (romantic), Agape (higher love), and Philios (friendship).

Getting Persephone back, while it made him happier and brought some closure, didn't quite complete him. I think young Snape is starting to understand the importance of loving yourself.

There's also Storge (natural/familial), but the lack of that goes a long way towards explaining all his issues, both in this story and canon.


	11. The Dance of Time

**Severus Snape and the Last Year**

By Carla Lute

**Notes: **If you want to go with the zippered, semi-chronological reading of the Last Year levels, you would read Level 3.11 right after Level 2.11: The Last Dance (aka Chapter 21).

Special Thanks to Imbeni for beta testing.

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on the Harry Potter novels written by J.K. Rowling. All characters created by J.K. Rowling are owned by J.K. Rowling. The few characters created by me (i.e. Persephone, Hotchet, Kagome…) belong to me, but are available for use in other fics as long as I get credited as their creator. None of us are making any money off this and no infringement is intended.

* * *

oOo

**3.11 The Dance of Time**

He thought the trickiest part would be scheduling things so he would get enough food and sleep. He worked out three seven hour shifts for the bedroom, which allowed him a little over an hour of wiggle room in between each. If he started taking meals in the Great Hall as well as telling the house-elves to keep delivering to his room, he would probably get enough food. The elves were not skimpy with their portions. He could always stop by the kitchens for extra.

The Time-Turner allowed him to expand each day into three or four. But he had to take care, the more he relived the same hours, the more likely he was to accidentally run into himself. He had found a bedroll and other items for camping stored under the bed and laid it out in the library with some cushions to make a more comfortable place to rest and study.

Thursday morning his textbooks arrived with the owl post.

It was surreal eating breakfast at the high table. There was no strict seating charts, though the heads generally sat by the headmaster, particularly at special occasions. He did his best to act as though he belonged there and ignore the blatant stares, pointing, and quiet exclamations over his appearance. Flitwick and Vector did their best to make him feel comfortable. Sinistra was trying too in her own way, but her presence made him tense and wary.

His morning classes went by very similarly to how they had the day before, only this time most of the students had already heard rumors of his transformation. After he dismissed the third years for lunch, a few tried to linger, but he hurried them along by saying he was going to lunch himself. He stuffed his lesson planner into his satchel and turned around to find his path blocked by a small, dark girl with large eyes and a serious expression. "Are you still going to protect us?" she asked in a surprisingly deep voice.

"Who are you?" Severus asked.

The girl turned and walked away.

oOo

* * *

oOo

He had the incident driven from his mind by the difficulty of keeping Persephone from tripping over a past or future version of him and discovering the Time-Turner. He decided to try to keep her visit as brief as possible, limit it to an hour and make up for the shortened time with concentrated attention. Which worked fairly well until he had to invent reasons to keep her out of the bathroom.

"It's a mess."

"I could help you clean up."

He appreciated the practicality and kindness of her offer, but what he really needed was to keep her out of the bathroom. "You told me your last cleaning spell broke a mirror."

"Hermione fixed it," she pouted. "Besides, I don't mind a little Muggle style cleaning. It's a nice sized bathroom, but it isn't huge."

He tried to sound casual. "I'd just rather you didn't. It's sort of a private space."

She looked puzzled. "You've always shared a bathroom."

"Exactly, it's a new experience. I like having a little privacy."

Persephone stared at him with a disbelieving expression. "I had my own bathroom at home too. I know it's nice, but I let my friends go pee when they came to visit."

"I don't want you seeing my mess," Severus said stubbornly.

Persephone rolled her eyes but agreed to go down the hall. Severus tried to put the minutes while she was gone to good use by starting on one of his textbooks, but instead he worried about how he was going to keep the Time-Turner a secret for the next three weeks. The sitting room was an awkward place for them to meet. He had managed to squeeze the chess set and a couple tea cups on the small table, but he doubted Persephone would be content doing the same every afternoon.

They finished the game before the hour was up, but Persephone spent the next ten minutes trying to convince him to let her stay longer. "We could spread out on the bed like we did the other day and do our reading," she suggested.

That would certainly be more comfortable, but if things went as planned, there was already another Severus sleeping on the bed. "I think it's better if that stays private space too."

Persephone cocked her head. Her lips parted as though she wanted to say something but could not decide what. Severus gave her a quick kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Easily appeased, she smiled at him. "Okay, can't wait to see you in action."

"In action?"

"I have Potions tomorrow. It's your last class."

oOo

* * *

oOo

Severus lived through over three days worth of hours before he saw her again in the Potions lab. He had finished the Memoirs by then. Apparently his older self had abandon the project after he had finished recounting the first war. Later entries consisted of notes and lists of names and only occasional snippets of prose like:

_Lucius lied. Whether to himself or to me or both of us I can not say. But he is the Dark Lord's man once again. If I did not have my role to play, I might rage at him, but indignation is not a luxury I can afford..._

Severus added his own note at the very end.

_Mystery of Persephone Potter's kidnapping solved. Narcissa Malfoy guilty. Motive most likely personal._

He decided that once he had found a way to break the enchantment on them he would hand the Memoirs over to Dumbledore. They were essentially a testimony and might prove relevant for the current war.

He was not completely decided what his role in that war might be. Despite the temptation of getting his parents to disown him permanently, his sympathies lay with Harry and Dumbledore. Voldemort had killed too many people he liked, and he was still horrified that he had ever given lip service to the creature. He remembered his promise to protect Harry, but maybe his warning had been enough.

The future had made him an optimist.

He wrote a letter to his parents, explaining his new situation. He had mixed feelings about sending it, but he told Persephone he would. So he did.

He was still having to explain himself to each class and answer the same questions, but otherwise he was settling into the teaching routine. He had no delusions that he was on the same level as Flitwick or McGonagall, but he was starting to feel more comfortable as a Professor than he had as a student. The perks were nice. No curfew. Password access. The school's enchantments amplified the magic of those it recognized as teachers. Flitwick assured him as long as he focused he would have no trouble performing delicate spells, but he should be cautious when attempting to put power behind a spell.

It took a little practice to adjust to the amplification. It made magic easier, but almost too easy. He had experimented with wordless spells before and found he could perform them now with little difficulty. He lost a few hours attempting wandless magic with extremely limited success. Anything more complex than a Summoning Charm seemed to require a wand even with the amplifications.

He discovered when he returned from lunch on Friday that the sixth years had arrived early. Between the four houses, there were about fifteen students, all of whom seemed to be giggling or whispering and watching him curiously. He suspected they had all heard some version of his story already and did not feel like breaking into it again.

Persephone was watching from amongst them. She was grinning as though expecting a great treat. Severus was not sure if it was her presence or the fact less than a week ago he had been a sixth year himself, but he felt his worst attack of nerves yet. He walked to the front of the room, doing his best not to make eye contact with anyone, and flipped open his lesson plan.

"Everlasting Elixirs," he read aloud. "The effects are similar in nature to an Unbreakable Charm, but there's a marked difference in nature and use. You will be brewing an Elixir today and for homework write a five foot essay on the properties of an Everlasting Elixir that make it distinctive from an Unbreakable Charm. Any questions?"

Every student in the room raised their hand high in the air. Persephone seemed to realize she was the odd one out and held her hand up at half mast.

Severus sighed. "Any questions about the assignment?"

All the hands dropped.

"Fine," Severus surrendered. He had hoped to skip this part. "Everyone gets one question. State your name, ask your question, and listen because I'm not going to answer the same question twice. You." He pointed to a Ravenclaw on the front row.

"Arlen Jewkes. What potion were you experimenting with?"

"I don't remember. Next."

"Constance Quirke. Why don't you remember?" And so it went around the room. Persephone gave him a break by claiming someone else had already asked her question. Like the seventh years, the sixth years tried to test him.

"Ginny Weasley. Do you still have your..._tattoo_?"

He answered, "I have no memory of ever having one," instead of docking points, only because he suspected she was aware of the Dark Mark for some reason, and he would rather not risk the subject coming up.

"Chesann Blampied," was grinning like only a Slytherin girl could. "Where did you have a tattoo?"

"Next Question."

He rolled with the nonsense as best he could, but the last question from a lone student at the back of the room caught him off guard. The blonde girl was wearing what looked to be Dandelion puffs as earrings, so he had not had high expectations. "Luna Lovegood. Why did you want to be seventeen?"

"I don't think it was a planned accident," he misdirected, but he had a feeling, unlike her peers, Ms. Lovegood had done her homework. "I suggest everyone start on their Elixirs. You've already lost ten minutes."

Thankfully the Elixir captured their attention for most of the period. He sat down for a few minutes to collect himself, before he forced himself to make rounds and check the progress of their work. Thankfully Persephone was properly following instructions, so he was able to pass her by with only a nod. He was a little uneasy as he approached the Lovegood girl's desk. Her potion appeared to be further along than many of the others. Before he could retreat, she leaned closer to whisper, "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone." He was not sure if he should be grateful, impressed, or unnerved, so he settled for some mixture of all three.

He retreated to his office when the bell rang. He was about to spin the Time-Turner when a soft knock stopped him. He tucked the pendant back into his robes and opened the door. Persephone slipped in, closed the door, and threw her arms around his neck. "You are definitely my favorite teacher," she said and stood on her toes to kiss him.

The kiss was nice, very nice, but it also pushed him to make a decision he had been debating in the back of his mind for the past three days. "Persephone, I can't be your boyfriend while I'm your teacher."

She blinked at him, mouth open to argue but at a loss for words. He plunged on before she found them. "It's inappropriate, and I need time to study for the N.E.W.T.s."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes," he said, managing to sound resolved rather than guilty.

"Well...what if we just studied together?" she asked.

"I don't think that's appropriate either. Dumbledore said I needed to conduct myself as a Professor, and if I open myself to study with one student, I'm ethically obliged to offer study help to all of them. And I don't have time to do that."

Persephone's expression had grown gape mouthed.

"It's only for a few weeks," he reasoned. "But I think until that time is up you shouldn't come to my apartment or to my office anymore."

"You're kicking me out?"

"Yes," he said, stepping back over to open the door.

She obvious wanted to say more but had the propriety not to start arguing personal matters with the door open. He did love that about her. Looking both defeated and perplexed she walked out.

oOo

* * *

oOo

He remembered spending weeks during the summer going into withdrawal over her absence, pining in a properly pitiful way and pretending his misery was proof of his love and devotion. He had even written some horrendous poems about her, which he had had the good sense to burn before anyone was subjected to them.

This time was different. He felt relief to have some space. Maybe it was because this time it was his choice, or perhaps because it made hiding the Time-Turner infinitely simpler. He had learned long ago that Persephone's puzzled looks did not mean she couldn't put the pieces together. Part of it was that even with the Time-Turner, he was scrambling to get all his work done. He had signed up for every advanced class Hogwarts offered, except Divination and Muggle Studies, which meant he had a year's worth of material to cover for ten subjects in a matter of weeks. He thought about Persephone, particularly when he was laying down to sleep, but he did not have the energy left to miss her.

There was something else, much harder to explain than the rest. He needed to not be with her for a little while. He needed to know he could carve out some sense of balance without her around.

He did not think any of this meant he loved her less, but he had little time to ponder that as he squeezed a full weeks worth of free days out of the weekend to grade other students' assignments and read his History of Magic texts.

The days passed more slowly for him than the others at the school, though he pushed himself intensely. He felt a deep inner calm as he fell into a pattern with the Time-Turner. Teach, grade, sleep, read, read more, sleep, practice, research, sleep, teach again. He used lunch time to try to casually ask the other teachers questions since he could not consult them in classrooms.

Persephone shot him funny looks now and then, but she kept her distance, except once to ask for the return of _The Dark Creature Rituals_. She had found some project of her own to keep her busy. He hoped she was going to be able to test for her N.E.W.T.s as well.

He had never suffered from test anxiety the way some students did. He had always tested well, and the N.E.W.T.s were just a really big test. Dumbledore bought him a little more time by convincing the Wizarding Examination Authorities that his presence when the other seventh year students tested would be disruptive, and his amplified magic would give him an unfair advantage. So they agreed to test him and Persephone separately right after term had ended, and he had been fully dismissed from his position.

He liked his life as a professor more than he had as a student, though he understood he was dodging some aspects of the job since he was following a pre-made lesson plan and not there long enough to need to get to know his pupils. The fifth years gave him more trouble than any other group. They were under O.W.L. stress and all demonstrating it in different ways, some snappish, some hysterical, some passive-aggressive. It was the only group he had to threaten with detentions. Some of the girls seemed to be trying to flirt with him, so he explained to the class multiple times that he had no power to influence their O.W.L. grade.

Grading was the only part of the job he truly detested. He had not left himself any answer keys or instructions and had to appeal to McGonagall for help. Many of the students protested their marks, and he was not confident enough to defend himself, which meant he ended up taking a second look at a lot of essays.

Charles and Millicent Bulstrode, a slender first year and his large seventh year sister, introduced themselves as first cousins. Apparently his mother had a younger brother. His parents had preferred to spend as little time as possible with their families. He had a vague awareness that they both had siblings, but no strong memories of any aunts or uncles, grandparents either for that matter. Sometimes he felt like he had sprung from a void. There were some fuzzy memories of crowded gatherings from his early childhood, but they were very fuzzy.

His parents wrote back. He received one letter from his father.

_Dear Severus,_

_Your mother is most anxious to see you again, so you and Persephone are welcome to visit at your convenience._

_Sincerely,_

_T. H. Snape_

It was a warmer reception than he had expected from his father. A few days later a second letter from his mother arrived.

_Dearest Severus,_

_I do hope you are planning to stay with us once the Hogwarts year ends. I'm very glad you have found little Persephone. I liked her, and I was worried she had died. Please write back soon if you plan to come. It's been a few years since I've opened the door to your bedroom, and there's no telling what's crawled in and died there. Might take a few days to make it livable again._

_Love,_

_Mum_

The years had brought a sentimental streak to his mother. He let his summer plans simmer in the back of his mind while he devoured his textbooks, practiced Patronus Charms, and tried to conjure tea sets.

oOo

* * *

oOo

The weeks did not fly by, but just about the time it seemed they would go on forever, it ended. The students finished their exams, and he was assigned his last act as a Hogwarts Professor, helping to chaperone the Leaving Dance. He sent Persephone a note, asking if she would meet him in his office to fit his dress robes an hour before the dance started.

He took a break from his reading to try to remove the enchantments on the _Memoirs_. After an hour and a half, he was successful and took the entire box up to the headmaster's office. Dumbledore welcomed him inside. "Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said. "Would you like these back after I've finished them? They are your memories after all."

Severus shook his head. "Those belong to someone else," he said. "I'm going to make new memories."

"Very well," said Dumbledore. "I have a gift for you too." The headmaster retrieved a book from the shelf, and Severus was horrified when he saw which one. _A Detailed History of the Goblin Wars. _"I did say I'd give it back after you returned my book." There was a mischievous twinkle in Dumbledore's blue eyes. "I'll admit I had forgotten all about it."

Severus decided to accept this as part of his punishment and took the book in hand without a protest. "You seem to be in a good mood."

"Summer break," said Dumbledore with a contented sigh. "If I ever try to take up teaching again, I do hope someone will talk sense into me. This year actually had me considering retirement."

"Do you think you ever will retire?" Severus asked curiously.

"Only if I absolutely must," said Dumbledore. "I tried it for a year once. Terrible experience. Thought the boredom might drive me mad. Have you thought about what you'll do now?"

"I'd like to help the Order fight Voldemort, sir," Severus said. The old Auror dream had been stirring in him again. "I'm just not sure how."

Dumbledore smiled. "We'll talk about it tomorrow. Tonight I am going to read and go to bed early, and I believe you have a party to attend."

"Goodnight, sir," Severus said and headed back downstairs. He squeezed the book into one of the few empty slots left on his book shelves and waited until he was sure the bedroom would be empty to get ready.

He used all the bottles Hermione Granger had brought him along with Persephone's expensively wrapped soap alternative to take a long, hot bath, and thoroughly cleanse himself. He had paid as little attention to school gossip as possible, but even he had heard that Draco had managed to negotiate a date to the dance with the Muggle-born prefect. Poor Lucius. The soap alternative took the lingering scent of the Potions lab off him at the very least. If it left his rough bits a little softer, what was the harm?

He unwrapped the shiny shoes and boxed dress robes. They still sagged but not as badly as he recalled the other robes sagging. Maybe he had grown a little while he was busy studying. Just to show he was making an effort, he picked out a pair of cufflinks. They made him think of Lucius too, and he hoped his friend was all right, wherever he might be.

Thus dressed, he went to wait for Persephone in his office.

oOo

* * *

oOo

He got up to close a cabinet he did not remember opening and did not notice the door open until Persephone was closing it again. He actually forgot to breath for a few seconds. She was already dressed for the dance. She seemed even smaller than before, but that was most likely because her usual puff of purl hair had been flattened down to something sleek and shiny like liquid silver. Her dress robes were simple, soft peach with a full skirt and extremely short sleeves. They had a sort of flower petal like effect, but Severus was more captivated by where the fabric wasn't. The open neckline was not particularly low cut, but it stretched from shoulder to shoulder and showed her collar bone. The bodice hugged her body, revealing its shape rather than hiding it, the way her robes usually did.

"Hi," she said shyly, pulling her silver wand out from a pocket hidden by the folds on the skirt.

"Hi."

"Stand straight and hold your arms out."

"I like your dress," he managed, while doing as told. He felt the robes shrink up slightly as she performed her spell.

"You should," she said with a soft smile. "You picked them out."

"I had good taste," he said, trying to be funny and not quite pulling it off.

"Let me try something." Persephone tweaked some of the accents on his robes to a dark green. "I like that better. What do you think?"

"It's fine," he said, with barely a glance at his own robes. His eyes were busy. "Do you want to get married?"

She stopped and looked up as though not sure she heard him correctly. "Seriously?"

Not the most elegant proposal. "Sure. I was thinking, since we're both done with school...after the test, and we want to stay together. I mean I'd really like us to stay together. We may as well be as together as we can be. I left myself enough money to care of us for a while, and it'll stretch further if we're sharing things...and...if you want me, I...mean if you want to...?"

"Yes!" She tucked her wand away and beamed at him. "Yes! Oh, mon! Of course that's what I want! I want you."

"Okay, good," he said chuckling with relief. "I guess we — I guess we ought to go to the dance."

Neither of them was in a hurry to leave. "We have time," Persephone said and stepped close so she could finger the fabric of his dress robes.

"You look beautiful," he stammered, reaching a hand up to touch her hair.

She smiled up at him and shrugged her smooth, cream shoulders, self-consciously. "Victoria turned me on to something a bit stronger than Sleakeazy's, so I don't look so much like a puffskein tonight."

"You always look beautiful to me," he said, sliding his hands down her back to hold her waist. She blushed shyly and hid her eyes under silver lashes. He wanted to kiss her, so he lifted her chin and did. She kissed him back.

oOo

* * *

oOo

They sat on his desk and talked. He tried to explain that his proposal had not been quite as hasty as it sounded. He really had been thinking it over for quite a while, and it seemed like the natural thing for them do. He wanted to live with her. She felt like home to him more than his parents house ever had. "They want us to come stay with them, by the way."

"Merveilleux, think they'd help us plan the wedding?" she asked.

Oddly enough, he thought they'd be thrilled with the idea. "How soon do you want to...?"

"Yesterday," Persephone laughed. She circled her arm around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder. "Tomorrow. Next week. Soon as we can. But you'll have to get used to letting me see your messes."

He laughed and kissed her temple. "I promise after we're married I'll be happy to share the bathroom."

She caught his lips and stroked his jaw. "I wish we got to go to our dance," Persephone said. "You look so nice. James taught me how to dance a little. I'm not very good, but I did want to dance with you."

Severus hopped off the desk. Professor Vector had told him about a little trick only the staff could do. He pointed his wand at the ceiling and a moment later they could hear the music from the Great Hall in his office. He offered his hand to her. "Dance with me?"

Smiling brightly, Persephone placed her hand on his and practically bounded to him. He guided her successfully into a slow waltz. Her smile faded as they moved together, but he knew that meant she felt peaceful in his arms. They could be quiet together.

oOo

* * *

oOo

They danced through three songs together in his office before he remembered that he was expected in the Great Hall. After another very long kiss, they agreed to enter the dance a few minutes apart. He was still technically a Professor until midnight, and it was not the appropriate time to make an announcement.

He went first while she stopped in the bathroom to check her hair.

Severus spotted Harry speaking with McGonagall, Firenze, and a knot of Professors, so he walked their way. It was his hope that chaperoning would mainly entail standing around with a punch cup and chasing people off to the dorms when the dance ended. But he wanted to leave a favorable impression on his last night.

"Good evening, Professors," he said as he joined the group.

"Good evening, Severus," said McGonagall.

Sinistra frowned at him. "Severus, where's Persephone?"

Severus shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't seen her." He was not entirely sure why he lied other than general nervousness.

Sinistra and Kotter exchanged startled looks. "I'll go," Kotter said. Severus belatedly realized they were worried she had vanished again and felt a little guilty. Their unnecessary distress was short lived as Persephone appeared the same moment Professor Kotter reached the door.

Draco and Hermione were continuing their negotiations on the dance floor. Persephone had moved to the refreshment table with her nephew. He joined them by the punch bowl. "Here, drink up," Persephone said, handing him a cup. Their fingers brushed as he took the cup, and they shared a smile.

"Here, eat," Harry said, shooting a glare at him and thrusting a plate at Persephone. Severus realized this was probably the wrong time to bring up their engagement and crept back towards Professor McGonagall, nursing his cup.

The longing for a male confidant was starting to hit him. Harry had been easy to talk to on other subjects, but he was hostile and defensive when it came to Persephone. Severus supposed it was natural that he would harbor some resentment from the ill treatment by his forgotten self. It was one thing to make peace with a former bully, but quite another to welcome them into your family with open arms. One of his big hesitations about Persephone in the past was knowing that to marry her was to make James his brother-in-law. Acceptance from Harry would take time. Severus would need to look elsewhere if he wanted a confidant soon. He wished Lucius was here.

"He's coming!" Persephone's voice broke above the music. Severus looked around to see Harry collapsed against the refreshment table, his face tight with pain.

"Everyone get into your Houses. He's coming!" Hermione called.

Severus exchanged glances with the other teachers and saw they were just as confused as he was as the students began breaking from their partners and forming ranks.

"Clear the stage!" Harry shouted. "Tonks, clear the stage! Get everyone away from the windows!"

The pinked-haired performer hurried her fellow band members off the stage. Severus took the hint and backed away from the stage area. Professor McGonagall had already flown to Potter's side. After a quick conversation with him, she darted out of the Great Hall.

He saw Persephone duck under the refreshment table, while the other students pointed their wands at great window behind the stage.

Potter magically amplified his voice and began commanding the students like a general. "Space out so your wand's not pointed directly at anyone's back." There was an unnatural quiet as the students shuffled to comply. Kotter and Sinistra silently made signs to the staff and the visiting band members to take places along the walls.

Severus's mind whirred to fit the pieces together. The students were clearly prepared for an attack. He had heard something about emergency plans, but this was far beyond normal precautions. They seemed to confidently expect an attack from a certain angle. He remembered that Dumbledore said the scar was a connection between Harry and Voldemort. Notes in his journal said Harry had managed to break into Voldemort's mind last year, but the notes had also said Voldemort had learned to block him out. So Harry had gotten better or...

What was it Potter had said when Severus had explained Persephone's Seer skills to him?_ That's good I suppose—that she's accurate. _He had admired Potter for being so calm. But it struck him now that there had been no surprise in Potter's reaction to the news, only acceptance, possibly reassurance or resignation, but no surprise...because he had already known. Persephone must have had a vision of an attack and instead of warning Dumbledore, Potter had used the students to lay a trap for him. It was an impressive act of stupidity.

Draco and Hermione were obviously deep into this plot, and to some degree so was Persephone.

"Get ready," Harry's voice boomed. Severus already had his wand out. The only thing that kept him from feeling completely betrayed was that the rest of the staff had obviously been kept in the dark too. Was this the little project that had kept Persephone so busy during their separation?

There was no time to grow indignant. The students collectively cast an invisible barrier designed to deflect projectiles only a second before the great windows shattered. Severus fought the instinct to duck, only raising his hand to shield his eyes from broken glass. Thankfully, the barrier held. The students were obviously prepared, so he hung back and did not interfere with the first few volleys of spells as the Death Eaters tried to invade the Great Hall through the shattered windows. Potter counted off four rounds of coordinated spells, before he sounded a command to retreat. The students covered their withdrawal by a mass casting of the Patronus Charm. It was beautiful and terrifying at the same time as silvery, luminous animals tore about the room.

While the other students darted around him, Harry Potter stood in the center of the room staring defiantly at the most recent invader. Severus followed his gaze to a man, if you could call it that, with red eyes, a lipless mouth, and slits instead of a proper nose. The snake faced man. Lord Voldemort. Voldemort locked eyes with Harry, but at his first step towards the boy, Moaning Myrtle flew in the Dark Lord's face, shrieking accusations, kicking and punching at him with icy hands.

When Severus looked back around, Potter had vanished. Voldemort hissed a spell at Myrtle, flinging her back across the room. He took another step forward and paused. Severus realized that no one was attempting to directly confront Voldemort. The students were all too busy trying to run from him, and the teachers were pre-occupied by the Death Eaters who seemed to be targeting them specifically. But so far, not him. Severus attempted Legilimency, and to his great surprise the Dark Lord was not Occluding or at least not very well. He got a flash of a daggers behind the Dark Lord's disdainful look and hurried to cast the same shielding spell that the students had used to protect them from the glass shards.

"_REICIO_!" It worked. The conjured knives bounced off and fell harmlessly to the floor.

To his surprise, Voldemort tried the exact same spell again.

"_REICIO_!" This time he was a little too slow. Catching most of the knives but not all of them. At first Severus felt like he had been jerked back by a portkey, the room streaking around him, but then he hit the ground. The most horrible, intense pain blossomed through him.

Most of the noise around him fused together unintelligibly, but he heard Draco's voice yell, "Get out of his way!" Sound advice. He probably should have done that. A few moments later Draco's was standing over him, looking around wildly. "Longbottom!" he screamed. "Help him!"

Severus closed his eyes trying to will away the pain. He did not dare move. The whole room seemed to scream as one, or maybe that was in his head. A loss of pressure told him someone had vanished the knife from his gut and sudden tightening told he had been bandaged. His head swam as though life was actively draining out of him...or blood...that was probably blood.

"He's going to need more that I can do," a new voice said. "Give him this. It will help."

The world went dark and silent. "Severus..." Persephone's anxious voice brought him back to the pain. He could not make out the words, it was like listening underwater, but felt her lift his head and press a vial to his lips. He tried to drink. Opening his eyes did not reveal much, just blurry burst of light. He closed them and tried to will his body to heal.

"Lower your wand." _Ah, Lucius was here_.

"No." _Draco's voice._

"We don't have time to play games, Draco." _That's right._

"I'm not playing." _Lucius is a Death Eater, now._

"This was a trap? You betrayed us." _Note to self._

"No, father. You betrayed me." _Stop wishing._

Persephone's cool hands tried to sooth his brow while the Malfoys continued their stand off. Whatever was in the vial was helping. The pain was settling into something that felt a little less like imminent death. He tried opening his eyes again, narrowed them to focus. He wanted to see Lucius.

"I don't have time for this—" Lucius had aged well, but he still seemed so _old_. Impatience was etched into his face. Severus remembered that look.

"Lucius!" Persephone cried and drew his attention towards them. Severus was not sure if that was wise.

"Persephone?" Shock. Lucius looked shocked. Severus wondered if they still meant anything to him.

Draco attempted to stun his father, but Lucius blocked it. Severus caught the flash of Persephone's silver wand as the world swam into darkness again.

Pain pulled him back out again this time. Slowly he realized he was lying on the stone floor. The world was quieter. Whatever had been in the vial was helping, but he was not eager to try standing. Every little noise was now loud and clear. The main battle had moved elsewhere. A click, shoes clicking on the stone, Draco's voice, "_Envennerate_", someone moved against the floor nearby, fabrics rustling. "Is he conscious?" Draco asked, very close to him.

"Unfortunately," Severus muttered, opening his eyes. He could see. How interesting.

"We have to get him to the hospital wing," said Persephone. They each took one of his arms, placed it around their shoulders and lifted him to stand between them. He questioned the wisdom of standing but was in no shape to argue. He realized he still had his wand in hand and tightened his grip on it. Amazingly his legs held.

"Oh, no," Longbottom moaned

A cold chill crept over his body. Shadowy, cloaked figures were moving in through the broken window. Dementors. _It's fairly easy when the jailors have sided with Lord Voldemort._

Severus jerked his wand arm off Draco's shoulders. "_EXPECTO PATRONUM!_" He allowed the enchantment to flow with full power and amplification. A silver butterfly with wings the size of elephants chased the dementors back through the window. Severus had hoped the size might obscure the form, but no.

Draco was unable to resist teasing him. "Was that a butterfly?" Severus glared at him, and Draco turned his face away. His anger faded as he realized Persephone was looking up at him as though he had just done something absurdly romantic. Maybe it was a little.

Whatever smoothing potion she had used was already losing it's power over her hair, strands of which were escaping to stand up in odd places.

They ran into Firenze and Sinistra on the way out of the Great Hall. After a brief debate, the two Professors left to try to alert the Ministry. Longbottom and Draco got into another argument over whether they should rush to the hospital wing or stay and help the stunned students. It was cut off when a troop of girls, including the dark little third year, arrived to hold the Great Hall.

Luna Lovegood seemed to have more sway with Longbottom than Draco did. "Neville, why don't you and Lavender help them get to the hospital wing. It looks like Professor Snape has lost a lot of blood."

Severus did his best not to slow them down as he hung between Draco and Persephone. They had not gone very far when Draco ordered them into a classroom to hide from some Death Eaters. They laid him down on one of the tables while Neville and a female student kept guard at the door. Severus was grateful for the rest. Persephone clenched his hand and smoothed the hair back from his face.

"What's that?" Draco asked.

"Time-Turner," Severus explained automatically, realizing the pendant had slipped out of his robes. "McGonagall got it for me, so I'd have time to study for the exams and teach all the classes."

He caught the glint in Draco's eye and covered the little hour glass protectively with his free hand. '_Don't think about it'_. Draco walked away to consult with Neville.

Severus turned his attention to Persephone. "You knew, didn't you? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm sorry," Persephone murmured gently. She sounded genuinely sorry and brought his hand up to press her cheek against it. "Harry had this whole big plan, and it was important the teachers didn't know. I'm such a dolt. I should have told you earlier this evening. Do you forgive me?"

Severus touched her cheek lightly to let her know she was forgiven. He had been the one to kick her out after all, and then distracted her with his sudden proposal. He wanted to survive, so they could properly make it up to each other. "Where's Potter?"

"He was going to try to lure Voldemort to Classroom Eleven," Draco supplied.

"Why Classroom Eleven?" asked the girl by the door.

"He thought the trees would make for good cover."

Severus sat up, inhaling sharply at a fresh burst of pain, which was only outdone by his rising panic. "There are trees in classroom eleven? Why are there trees?"

"Hush, hush," Persephone soothed him. "Lay back down." He would not. "They fixed up that classroom for Firenze. It looks like a lovely bit of forest, nothing sinister. Please lay back down."

"And Potter's there?"

"Hopefully," said Draco, frowning with confusion. Harry must not have told them about the dream. Persephone's puzzled eyes told him she did not remember.

"That idiot," he muttered, letting Persephone ease him back onto the table. What was Potter playing at? Did he want to die?

"It's okay," Persephone tried to reassure him. "He's got a plan."

Severus mind raced. He had to get there, to protect Harry, somehow, but what use was he like this? He could barely stand. He did have his amplified magic. That might give him a chance to be useful if he could get to Harry on time, but how? — oh, right — Time-Turner.

Persephone let go of his hand to talk with the others by the door. Four turns to be on the safe side.

"Oh bloody—" He heard Draco exclaim before he left them three hours away.

oOo

* * *

oOo

He regretted that he had failed to keep the Time-Turner a secret, but given the circumstances, thought McGonagall would forgive him. He allowed a few minutes to catch his breath and form a proper plan of action before he tried to move. Luckily, they had chosen to hide in the classroom devoted to Ancient Runes, which meant Nochian's office was next door. He rolled carefully off the table and crawled to a heavily anchored shelf of books that he used to pull himself up to his feet. He leaned against the wall to keep himself upright and peeked out the door to make sure the hall was clear before hobbling the few feet to Nochian's office door.

Nochian never bothered to ward his office, so a simple Alohomora got him inside. He staggered over to the fireplace and used a pinch of floo powder to travel to his own office. He had earned some pocket money last summer (last one he remembered) by helping his mother fill Potions Orders for St. Mungo's and could brew a Blood Renewing Potion in his sleep. Which was helpful since he kept threatening to lose consciousness.

He summoned the tools and ingredients off the shelves and managed to prepare the Potion before he grew too weak. He drank one dose and bottled a few more to carry with him. He knew from his search of the office that there were a few other ready made healing potions and salves that he kept in case of classroom accidents. He used a few of them, keeping one eye on the clock. He had to leave the office before his past self entered to meet Persephone.

He knew he would still need a healer's care to fix all the damage the knife had done, but he managed to repair himself enough to get up to Classroom Eleven. He used the floo again to reduce the number of steps he needed to take and hid in Classroom Twelve which was across and down a bit from Eleven.

He cracked the door so he could sit and watch while he waited for the remaining time to pass without being easily seen. Sleep threatened to take him, but the sound of footfalls on the stone roused him. At first he saw no one, but then he spotted a pair of disembodied feet turn into Classroom Eleven. That's right. James had an invisibility cloak, and he had given it to Harry.

Lord Voldemort followed close behind. Harry had deliberately led him to the scene of Persephone's vision, but why? There were easier ways to kill yourself.

Lord Voldemort walked so swiftly he seemed to be floating. He too turned into Classroom Eleven. Severus was in the process of getting to his feet, when he was stopped cold by the sight of an enormous manticore tearing full speed towards him. The manticore was almost upon him when it suddenly transformed into another Harry.

Voldemort's voice floated out from the classroom. ""I thought you were brave, Potter. Why do you hide from me?"

"Hey, Grandpa, over here!" the false Harry called. Severus felt hope spring up and struggled to his feet. Maybe Persephone had not seen her nephew die at all. Maybe she had seen this copy stop moving. "That's right," the copy continued. "I thought you would have figured it out by now, but maybe I've been giving you too much credit."

"I knew it was possible," Voldemort replied. "Do you think I will show mercy because of it?"

_Because of what? _Severus felt he had missed something important.

The copy snorted. "No, I'm not the stupid one here. You killed your own father, and then killed your own son. Killing your grandson would be such a little thing for a soulless beast like you."

Yeah, that sounded important.

"Soulless am I? Perhaps. I've grown beyond the need for such things."

The copy was ruthless. "Grown? Hardly. You're pathetic. You're the same bitter little boy you were sixty years ago. You never learn, never grow. You killed your father out of revenge for abandoning you and your mother, and then turn around and do the same to your wife and son. You, Tom Riddle, are just like your father."

Apparently no one liked hearing that.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!" _Voldemort screamed.

The green light hit with enough force to splinter the door and shatter the surrounding stone, but it passed through the copy without the slightest hint of harm. It laughed. "Now really, that didn't work the first time. Why did you think it would work now?" The copy pointed its wand at Voldemort. "Like I said, you never learn."

There was a heavy silence. Severus wondered why the copy was just standing there but soon realized there was nothing it could do. Whatever it was, it was insubstantial. A real manticore tearing down the hall like that would have shook the walls. Severus opened the door of Classroom Twelve and started creeping forward slowly. Persephone had said he needed to protect Harry.

"Why don't you strike?" asked Voldemort. "Afraid to destroy the last of your family?"

"_AVADA KEDAVRA_!" That sounded like the real Harry.

A red light shot through the doorway, which made Severus glad he was not there yet. He had never heard of the Killing Curse producing a red light. It was silent again, so he crept forward for a better view.

He was just close enough to see the crumpled figure in black robes and a slim glimpse of Harry through the shattered doorway, when Voldemort lifted his head and stabbed his wand at Harry. He shouted "_AVADA KEDAVRA_!" in a cold, high voice. The copy shot forward, blurring into shadow and dove into the green light. Both the light and the shadow seemed to pass through Harry who screamed and fell to the ground.

Severus staggered closer. Trying to sort out what had happened. Voldemort laughed, cold and cruel. Severus had a shot at his back so he took it.

"_Petrificus To_-!" His injury flared suddenly forcing him to catch his breath mid-spell.

Voldemort whirled. "_Expelliarmus!_"

Severus's wand flew out of his hand and hit the wall behind him. He glanced at it helplessly. Diving for it seemed futile. It was taking all his energy just to stand up.

"Oh dear, Severus," Voldemort chuckled softly. "What have you done to yourself? I heard about your little accident…or was is it an accident? Foolish thing to do, when you must have known I was on to you. Or did you think I might overlook you, if you were no longer a threat to me?"

"I'm a still a threat to you," Severus spat. His hair had fallen in his face, and he tossed his head to shake it back. He was blustering, but as he did it, he caught Harry stirring, just slightly. Maybe that shadow creature had protected him somehow. Persephone had said Harry stopped moving, but she had never said he was dead.

Voldemort laughed again. "Your memory really must be gone as well. Or you would know better than to defy Lord Voldemort, to whom you have sworn your allegiance."

"I never swore allegiance to you," Severus hissed. Maybe he could buy Harry time. "The man who did that is gone, along with the mark that bound him to you, and even then, he was lying when he swore."

Voldemort rolled his shoulders. "But as you said, that liar is gone. I am in a good mood at the moment, Severus. You are young and hot headed, once again. But I will give you one last chance to redeem yourself. Swear your loyalty to me, return to your friends. Now that the boy's threat has passed, I may even be willing to spare the Potter girl." Severus twitched, and Voldemort smiled over his small victory. "Yes, I know she lives. Narcissa was foolish to think that she could hide her from me. Beg me for her life, Severus. Grovel on hands and knees, and I may consider sparing it."

Severus swallowed. He could pretend to play along. He might live longer that way. But wasn't that what caused all the trouble in the first place? Wasn't playing that game why he had come to hate himself so much? "No," he said.

"Perhaps I was mistaken, Severus," said Voldemort. "I was under the impression that you loved the girl."

"That's why I won't grovel," Severus said slowly, as though explaining something important. "Because I love her."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," said Voldemort, his smile fading. "Do you want her dead?"

Severus smiled. Voldemort really did not get it. Not one bit. "You're pathetic. You don't have the vaguest inkling of how love works, do you? That's why you're pathetic. That's why I know Potter will kill you in the end." _If he ever gets off the ground._

Perhaps it was better that Potter stayed still, as his words had made the Dark Lord nervous enough to glance over his shoulder. "Potter is dead, as you soon will be. But first I will hear you beg for mercy. CRUCIO!"

Severus screamed, his body twisting with pain. Another knife to the gut would have been kinder. He had read an account of this by his older self. Voldemort had become displeased over something he had failed to do and Cruciated him as punishment. It had sounded terrible, but the description had fallen short. He tried to tell himself that it was only pain, but there was nowhere to escape from it.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it ended. Severus fell to the ground, every nerve ending screaming in protest. Harry and Voldemort were shouting spells at each other. Severus forced his eyes open to see them engulfed in a bizarre web of gold, followed by a brilliant swirl of green and red. And then suddenly the light was gone and Voldemort was a charred mass on the ground.

Severus used a large chunk of stone rubble to pull himself up to his knees. "What was that?" he asked hoarsely.

"_Priori Incantatum_," Harry said.

"Oh," said Severus. The Reverse Spell Effect. He had read about it, but he had never seen it in action before.

"Do you need help?" asked Harry.

"No, I think I've—" His hands slipped on the rocks, and he fell face forward on the ground. Now he was embarrassed as well as in pain. His nose hurt too.

A girl screamed. Severus wanted to look, but he did not dare move.

"Harry?" He knew that voice.

"Persephone?" Yes. Hers.

"Severus!" He heard the crunch of stones and felt her hands on his neck.

"Ouch," he creaked, mainly to let her know he was alive. She gently helped him turn over onto his back, which was a slight improvement. Everything still hurt.

"Is that Voldemort?" Persephone asked breathily. "Is he?"

"Yeah, he's dead," said Harry.

"Where's Kagome?" asked Persephone.

"I don't know," said Harry. "I thought she was posing as Snape, but if this is the real Snape…"

Apparently, the creature had a name. Severus coughed. "That thing that looked like Harry?" he said with effort. "It jumped into the green light. I've never seen anything move so fast, then it was gone."

"She rode his death?" Persephone said softly. "Are you okay, Harry?"

"I'm fine. You take care of him. I have to…"

Severus missed what Harry had to do as the blissful darkness took him again.

oOo

* * *

oOo

He had the strangest dream. He had been dropped twenty-years in the future. There had been a Younging Potion, an invisibility cloak, a Time-Turner, a manticore, a bowl full of memories, a snake faced tyrant, a dance, a battle, Lucius and James both had sons who looked like imperfect copies of them, he had been a professor and a spy, Persephone had agreed to marry him, and he was going to have to take his N.E.W.T.s tomorrow.

Severus slowly blinked his eyes open. Oh right, those weren't dreams. Those were memories, and that was his life now. Assuming he was still alive. As the memories sorted themselves into sequence, he became skeptical.

With a little effort, he lifted his head and found that he was in the hospital wing. The tormenting pain seemed to have been replaced by an all over ache and general weariness. He placed a hand on his chest and felt the lump of the Time-Turner under his robes. That was good. Persephone's fluffy head was laid on the bed above his shoulder. She seemed to be asleep in that awkward position, so he went back to sleep too.

When he woke again, he found Persephone slumped back in a chair beside the bed. She leaned forward when she saw his eyes were opened. "You're going to be okay," she assured him. "You just need to rest."

He responded with "Hmph", too tired to ask questions.

Persephone kissed his cheek. "I told you you were a butterfly."

"Hmph," he repeated, hoping no one had heard her.

There were lots of other people around, coming in and out. Slowly he pieced together that Voldemort was indeed dead and most of the Death Eaters had been captured. He listened to the Aurors question Draco, apparently Lucius had gotten away, and it took half an hour before they were satisfied that Draco did not know where he had gone.

The dark little girl stopped by and squeezed next to Persephone on her chair. Persephone wrapped an arm around her, and the girl leaned into her in a way that told Severus they had grown very close. She turned her dark eyes on him and said, "I protected myself," in a way that was almost accusatory.

Draco appeared at the bedside. "Come along, Victoria, let Severus sleep." He held his hand out for her, and after a moment's consideration, she stood and took it. "That's my girl," Draco said, giving her a kind smile. His grey eyes had a tired look to them. "I'll come back and see how you're doing later. Take care of each other, okay?"

"Thank you, Draco," Persephone said. Severus managed a tired smile for him.

A few minutes later, the round faced boy Neville Longbottom appeared and dropped into the chair beside them. "Let's never do anything like this ever again, okay?"

"Okay," Persephone agreed.

Neville looked down at their clasped hands. "Is there something going on between you two?" he asked in a low voice.

Severus decided to take the chance to tell someone. "We're getting married."

Neville's eyes went wide. "Since when?"

"Since yesterday," Persephone grinned.

"I'm so glad I'm going to America," Neville said shaking his head.

Persephone kissed the boy's round cheek. "You're going to have a wonderful time, Neville."

He blushed and mumbled something that sounded like "good luck to you", before walking off again.

"Don't kiss other boys in front of me," Severus said with mock-irritation.

"Don't be jealous, Severus. My love for Neville is only a candle's flicker beside my roaring flame for you," she teased.

He laughed which made his wound hurt. "Ow."

McGonagall stopped by to check on him and reclaim the Time-Turner. He was sad to see it go but relieved to hear that the Examination Authority had agreed to delay his testing until after he had made a full recovery.

"So what do you want to do when we get out of here?" he asked, since they needed to have that discussion.

"Mm, I don't know," Persephone said, looking thoughtful. "But I'm not worried about it."

"Why's that?

"Because," she said, wrapping her hands tightly around his. "We have time."

oOo

* * *

**FIN**

**Author's note: **There's a lot of places I could have ended this story, but I decided that I liked the idea of Snape's level getting an expanded ending in The Last Train Ride which also ends the Harry and Draco levels.

I'm taking a break from fanfic for a while to work on sellable/original projects. When I come back, I will be filling in that missing 6th year. Some day off in the distant future there will be an Auror training trilogy too, but that one might be another decade (sorry!).

I'm always happy to be told about grammatical errors that leak through so I can fix them. Much thanks to everyone who took the time to review. I love getting feedback.

**On ethics: **I played with a lot more moral grey in this than I normally like to in my stories. This is not intended to show in any way support for teen/teacher romances...true love is patient and can wait for graduation. This is a peculiar circumstance that would only pop up in Time-Travel/magic stories. The Younging Potion was originally devised as a way to give Snape a second chance (something he did need), but I'm not claiming it was a best way. I hope I conveyed to some degree that he lost some important things by taking it.


End file.
